Random Running Thoughts 2

On Halloween afternoon I found myself enjoying a lovely run through the cemetery.  I had forgotten it was Halloween and it didn't even cross my mind as slightly strange to be hanging out in the cemetery this holiday.

I run in the cemetery often- in fact it might be one of my favorite locales for a leisurely jog.  This is a habit I started in high school during cross country practice.  To prepare for the state cross country meet my senior year we drove to a cemetery 10 miles away to practice because it had some of the biggest hills in the county-- I come from a very flat portion of Kansas which made training for hilly cross country courses a little tricky.  That particular week it happened to be Halloween and I was running in the dark at 5:30 in the morning-- that was a little strange.  I can't believe my senior cross country season was over 8 years ago.  Where did the time go?  Of course I was considerably faster back then-- where did my speed go I wondered as I trotted up a hill this fall Thursday afternoon.  A perfect fall Thursday afternoon.  If they were like this every week all cross country runners would rejoice for meets.  I was rejoicing because I was able to get home from work in time to go running.  This might be the last week I can squeeze a run in since it will be dark next week due to the time change so I was savoring the moments.

Some of the reasons I like to run in cemeteries are that there is a lot less traffic, if any, compared to city streets so I can be alone with my thoughts and have to worry less about making sure cars can see me.  It's also a fairly quiet place usually as well.  Today the crunchy leaves provided the background noise with the slight drone of the vehicles on the interstate in the distance reminding me there was a busy, bustling world, outside the sanctuary I was running through.  Most people like to run in parks which is okay with me but cemeteries are a lot like parks and I kind of feel like a lot of people don't utilize them to their full potential and enjoy their beauty on this side of eternity.  The autumn colors of the trees throughout were brilliant against the crisp, blue sky in the late afternoon light.  The shadows grow longer this time of day creating a unique contrast between the sunlight and darkness from the shadows.  There were also a few squirrels scampering about to provide some comic relief on my run.  Later I saw a family walking their golden retriever and enjoying the cemetery on this afternoon as well. This past weekend Arthur and I were walking in the cemetery when we met an older couple we know from church and we chatted a while.  They were on Sunday afternoon drive and decided to look at some of the markers to get an idea of what they want to get.  I suppose at a different time in our lives Arthur and I will go on a date to do the same thing. Hopefully that will be a long ways down the road but it was interesting to think about different ages and stages in life we will hopefully walk side by side through before we take or Sunday drive to check out markers.

Running in cemeteries also seems to bring out a different set of thoughts than normal runs.  I wasn't thinking about my to-do list, or pacing my miles, or the aching in my legs since I am out of shape.  I tend to think more about life and consequently death. There are some stones which I recognize the names such as Eisenhower or Duckwall or Brown and I know snippets of their stories and successes.  I think about the other names on the markers and make up my own stories about how those people's likes, their families, their careers or interests, how their lives impacted the community.  Cemeteries are full of stories.  Last weekend on our walk we noticed some gravestones off in the corner of one section.  We realized there were three matching stones with the same last name.  Each was a child with the same date for when they entered this world and left it.  All the dates were with in 4 years.  Just small pieces of this family's story.  Three babies that died at birth within 4 years.  But what was the rest of the story?  How did these parents find the strength to go on?  What do you do when your hopes and dreams for a child come crashing down around you.  And not just once but three times?

I understand why some people find cemeteries depressing.  There are the stories that break your heart.  But then there are the memories of the lives that touched so many other lives in big ways or small.  More importantly, cemeteries remind me that death is not the end of the story.  Christ's death and more importantly his resurrection gives us victory over death.  As glorious as my run this afternoon through the cemetery was I know that it is merely shadows of the Glory that is to come.  Omnia Vincit Amor.  

I suppose it's in my genes...

I come from a long line of home economics majors.  My mother, my grandmothers, and several aunts all studied home economics.  I followed in their footsteps and became a third generation graduate of the College of Human Ecology at K-State... as an athletic trainer.  The only culinary art I learned in college was how to whip up a nice chilled 10 gallon cooler of Gatorade. (I suppose I did have enough hours almost for a minor in nutrition so I do know saturated fat from folic acid.)  I earned the reputation in grad school of being the master of using canned crescent rolls in any dish I took to class gatherings.

Shockingly, over the past few months I have turned into a housewife and homemaker and am really enjoying myself.  What happened?!?  Are the genetics from my home econ roots just now blooming?  I realized I was a goner the other day when I made homemade pancake syrup.  I could have easily picked up a container for a few dollars but instead I found myself stirring a pot of boiling sugar.  I also baked my first whole chicken.  I must say I was pretty impressed with how it turned out- almost a work of art with the orange slices tastefully arranged and the seasoning on the crisp skin.  Then I had to bone said chicken and decided that this was way overrated and I will stick to frozen chicken breasts.

I have always considered myself a woman of math and science and I am beginning to realize how math and science play into being a homemaker.  My mom was once asked by some exchange students what she studied in school so explained that home economics was about cooking, clothing, running a household, family financial planning, etc. They replied, "Oh, so you can teach girls how to be maids."  Not quite.
Being a young couple and new grads we are trying to develop habits of being fiscally responsible.  One way I am trying to do this is through cutting out expenses while grocery shopping.  I will admit that I have taken it as far as to make price comparison sheets of what I buy for three different grocery stores and which store has the best deal on which items.  I use to absolutely hate grocery shopping but now I enjoy the challenge of planning, finding the best deals, and how much I can save per week.  Arthur is also working on a spreadsheet to find out the cost of recipes that we frequently make.  So we might be just a little nerdy-- oh well.

Since we are also working full-time I am also working on ways to have meals on hand if we don't have time to cook after work.  One afternoon I made double recipes of several dishes to stock our freezer.  I have gotten pretty good with making an entire meal in the rice cooker.  My next project will be mastering the crock pot.

One of the reasons I married Arthur was that he liked to cook and said that he would be willing to be the family chef. I figured I couldn't let a deal like that get away from me so I snatched him up.  Okay, so there may have been a few more important reasons why I fell in love and married him but not having to cook was sure appealing.  In pre-marital counseling we discussed family roles and responsibilities.  One role was the home manager role.  Arthur told the pastor that he was going to be the one filling that role.  I probably shot him some type of glare and the pastor thought we needed to discuss it farther.  I tried to explain to Arthur that being the family chef and home manager were two different roles entirely.  One was the person who cooks the other is in charge of everything else.  As it turns out due to work schedules I got both jobs- chef and home manager.  I am embracing being the chef more than I every thought.  This is not saying that I am a good chef yet by any stretch of the imagination but Arthur is very gracious about eating my cooking (more stories on this in a later post.)  Arthur on the other hand is becoming very good at washing dishes and is learning the finer techniques of laundry--another reason I snatched him as my husband.

I can't believe how these "home making instincts" kicked in all of a sudden once we were married.  Now I take pride taking care of my man and the home we have made together.  While I originally thought I would be a reluctant homemaker, I have yet once again found that omnia vincit amor (love conquers all).

Soup

If you were to walk into our kitchen the other evening it may have looked like a war-zone.  Piles of pots were scattered about, splatters on the counter, and diced vegetables littered the floor.  A battle had been wages and a victory was won—Alex had made soup from scratch for the first time.  (I’m not sure what it says about my cooking that I always seem to use war or battle analogy to describe my activities in the kitchen).   Since it was a cool October evening, and since it snowed that day, I decided that it was soup season.

 

I pulled out a tried and true soup recipe I got from my former roommate Jules.  I had watched Jules make cheesy chicken chowder a few times (or at least has seen the aftermath) but the finished product was so delightful I decided to try to make it on my own.  I started by slicing the veggies.  I peeled 4 potatoes and then realized that 4 potatoes was twice as many as I needed so I decided to double the recipe since the potatoes were already peeled.  I was using my food chopper to dice up carrots when the bottom fell off and diced carrots exploded all over the counter and floor.  The carrots also have a tendency to jam the spring loaded food chopper and I am always leery to stick my fingers in to pull out the offending chunk of carrots. 

I pulled out my large stock pot for its maiden voyage and simmer all the veggies.  I then dove into the next part of melting butter in another pot.  I started adding the flour as the recipe called for.  All of a sudden it switched from a liquid to a solid mass.  My first thought was “crud”.  Soup is supposed to be liquid not lumpy.  My next thought was “I should probably try a recipe once before deciding to make a double batch in case I botch something.”  I plowed forward however.  My philosophy is more keep going and see what happens.  So I did.  Next I added the milk which helped my floury mass turn back into a liquid.  I kept stirring and stirring and it became thicker, definitely more promising.

 

Then I realized what I had done.  I had made my first white sauce without realizing it.  I started mixing cheese and voila a cheese sauce.  It looked so rich and creamy.  I added the cheese sauce to the simmering vegetables and beheld my pot full of hardy soup.  I then called my mother to proclaim my excitement about white sauces and to share my joy about my accomplishment—I was giddy.  We have several containers of soup in our freezer ready to be enjoyed on a cool winter’s eve.  I feel like a squirrel gathering nuts and preparing for winter.  Omni Vincit Amor.  

Football

Alex and I both love sports.  So it should come as no surprise that a lot of our recreation is center not only in the spectating of competitions we have previously written about but also in participating.  Now often that means just Alex and I playing with one another but that doesn’t mean a pedestrian outing by any means.  Our house is strategically placed between two practice football fields, basketball and tennis courts, and two blocks from the track and football field.  When the various youth teams aren’t hogging the practice fields we can have quite a good time tossing the pigskin around.  Our outings slinging the ball back and forth, rarely could be called catch.  In my mind I am Peyton Manning or Jerry Rice and as such attention to form, concise route running, and a cerebral outlook on football schemes play an integral role in that time.  I have had my dear Alex run out routes, told her to imagine looking off the safety in cover 2, and asked her to hit me in stride when I run a go route.   While my dear Alex is a rather accurate quarterback she lacks the arm strength to throw the ball farther than 15 yards and because of this my corner, out and up, and wheel routes start 10 yards behind her.

It could perhaps be argued that a sort of intensity would diminish the relaxation factor in the R&R this activity is meant to give.  However, for at least myself and hopefully for my dear Alex, this sort of intensity is something that we have been bring to our dates for years.   Besides a previous tale about my pre-med roommate suggesting I premedicate with pain killers before going on dates with Alex, we also went on a 15 mile hike (note from Alex- it was actually 13 miles, when Arthur tells this story the hike just gets longer and longer) through a park in Kansas City.  We just both really enjoy being active.  And frankly, due to the sedentary lifestyle that college brought Arthur there is a bit of excess Arthur that needs worked off.  Running is a lot more fun when you get to catch a football.

 

Alex’s perspective:  I always enjoy a good game of catch during the fall.  I believe it was also my idea to register for a football on our wedding registery—at least I will take credit for it.  We played football quite a bit as a kid and I have worked as an athletic trainer with a college and high school football team so I have been around the sport quite a bit and have a working knowledge of the game as a spectator.  Playing “catch” with Arthur has exposed my lack of on-the-field knowledge.  He calls out routes and I have to stop him and ask him to explain exactly where he wants the ball thrown.  Of course he doesn’t run the same route more than once or twice so I can learn what the jargon means.  I would say I am an alright quarterback for a girl.  I was QB for our mighty intramural football team—our offense was more of a run game though.  I can throw a decent spiral and occasionally am pretty accurate.  I haven’t mastered the 5 step drop that Arthur is trying to teach me yet but maybe someday.  The other day he ran a route that required me to fake a pass and then hit him farther down the field.  I faked both of us out because somehow the ball got away from me on the pass fake and I had to run and grab it before I could do the actual pass.

 

Other times I am the receiver.  Arthur has had to tone down his passes if he wants me to attempt to catch them.  There may have been a few times a pass was coming in fast that I just duck and run away like a coward but I am okay with that.  Arthur has also learned when sending me out on a route he has to account for the fact that I am slower than he thinks.  I was a cross country runner so my 15 yard sprint down the field doesn’t really give me the chance to switch into a higher gear which results in a lot of over-thrown passes.  I do think Arthur does appreciate that I will toss the pigskin around which is an important wifely quality for him even if I still don’t have a clue what to do about a zone blitz.  Omnia Vincit Amor. 

Lessons Learned Living with a Girl

Alex has already written about the lessons she has learned with me.  As you can imagine, I have learned a ton on my end of things over the last couple of months living with a girl, and I think it is only fair that I get a chance to respond with my own list.

1. Girls insist on owning throw pillows, and their insistence is inexplicable.  For any bachelors reading this blog that might be blissfully unaware of what I'm talking about, a throw pillow is a pillow that is miniaturized to suboptimal dimensions.  As a pillow, it still holds a certain functionality (as I am reminded every time I use one) but their effectiveness is diminished due to their puny proportions.  Girls like to put them on their beds (which they then take off when they go to bed) and on the ends of couches (which you then have to move if you want to sit on said couch.)

2. Fashion and decoration are both multivariabled beasts.  The art of decorating a room (and apparently clothing yourself) is the application of colors, textures, and several other variables I have yet to discover into some sort of coherent menagerie, and this is a skill I have not successfully acquired.  In most every aspect of life, I have always found that if you can describe the variables and those variables' relationship to each other, you can optimize whatever you are wanting to do.  Perhaps this holds true for fashion. But there are so many variables, and frankly, I'm starting to think the rules are constantly being changed on me; and the result is I can only throw my hands up in the air in complete frustration and leave decorating to the experts (that is, Alex and her mother.)  It should be noted that Alex now allows me to dress myself but that is as far as I have advanced.

3. I went through my entire bachelor time completely unaware of how to care for a kitchen.  You apparently do not pour cold water into a skillet fresh from the oven, you don't place hot cookware on countertops, and it is an abomination to store said cookware on the oven burners (where you need them next time you use those burners).  Alex enjoys telling the story about how I had to ask if I could use the soap because she had ziplock bags over them (turns out she was allowing them to dry after washing them).  For what it's worth, Alex says I have come long way in the time we've been married.

4. Girls get cold at a much faster rate than guys do.  My dear Alex has not been a fan of leaving our bedroom fan on while we sleep, something that I rather prefer.  Fortunately, I apparently make a good space heater.

5.  Shedding.  I have found some big strands of hair in the drains, and they are quite the contrast to the 1/4 inch strands we as guys usually leave.  They aren't really a big inconvenience at all, just  a surprising factoid.

6. It's really just the converse of what Alex said earlier, but a girl's daily diet would starve a bird.  I don't know how she can subsist on the rations Alex allots for herself.

7. Alex has an eye for detail that I just don't have.  I suppose this ties in with fashion, since its just appreciating the details that she herself has so meticulously planned in our home, but she will notice the apparel and decor of other women and their homes to a degree that boggles the mind.

8. It is not fair that society expects women to spend so much time looking a certain way when men can get away with not even shaving/grooming their facial hair daily.  It's a real double standard and it completely cuts my legs out from under me when my dear wife asks me to dress a little nicer for whatever we are doing.

9. Security is big with women.  Hence we now lock the doors before going to bed, whereas I used to leave the doors unlocked, halfway hoping that intruders would come in the night so I might have the pleasure of honorably defending my home.

10. Sometimes inspite of and sometimes because of the reasons listed, plus a plethora of other reasons, life with the woman of your dreams is great.  The good things of life are that much sweeter because of my dear Alex, and the difficulties exist to prove definitively that Omnia Vincit Amore.

Flashback: Personality Test

This flashback takes us way back.  Back to a lovely spring day about 3 years ago when Arthur and I had been "intentionally hanging out" for about a month.  (We "intentionally hung out" for several months before officially dating-- Alex was a little leery of dating and committing to anything.)  On that spring day we were on a bike trail.  While we were riding along somehow the conversation lead Arthur to think it was a great time to give me a personality test.  The test included three questions.  What is your favorite animal and why?  What is your favorite natural phenomenon and why? And what is your favorite color and why?

This story focuses around the first question. Arthur asked me and I replied that I like moose because they are gangly and awkward, big, and graceful in the water.  But I have commitment issues and then changed my favorite animal to a wildebeest-- I like to cover all my bases with multiple answers.  Arthur then answered the question with a border collie because they are eager to please, obedient, and loyal.  I then asked Arthur what this question had to do with personality.  Arthur answered that the answer to your favorite animal is what you are looking for in a spouse.  At this point I'm pretty sure I turned white as a sheet or blushed- I'm not sure which.  With my answer of a moose I had basically described Arthur to a tee.  Arthur is a big guy, he is a little awkward and gangly when he tries to skip.  However, he is very athletic and was doing a lot of swimming at that time to prepare for his summer job as a lifeguard.  According to this test he was my perfect match and that terrified me at that time.  On the flip side it also scared me a little that he was looking for a "border collie" wife.  Someone who would by obedient and quick to follow his every command, who would heel right by his side wherever he went, and a gal that would fall all over herself trying to please him.  Well, that sure wasn't me.  If that is what he wants than this guy just needs to keep looking.

Interesting side story: this personality test is one that Arthur loves to give to all his friends, and it has been amazingly accurate in predicting comparability.   One friend however, gave a very memorable answer to this question: when asked what his favorite animal was, he responded with a cow.  This is hilarious enough in itself, but when he described why it get even better; he liked cows because they are "tasty, stupid, and easy to control."  This particular friend happens to still be in the market if any of you single ladies out there are interested.

Several months later we talked about this conversation again.  One reason I had been hesitant to really start dating Arthur was that he wanted a "border collie" wife.  In this later conversation I explained my feelings about this and he laughed.  He pointed out that I was only remembering part of his answer on that fateful bike ride.  His version of the answer was that border collies are incredibly intelligent, very hard workers, but also very playful in addition to loyal, obedient, and eager to please.  At that point my thought was, "Oh shoot, maybe I am little bit of a border collie."  Of course the rest of the story is history.  I married my moose and Arthur got his version of a border collie wife.  I'm pretty sure all the research and data collected by eHarmony isn't as accurate as Arthur's personality test question on this very early date to predict future matrimony.  Despite Alex's initial hesitation, Omnia Vincit Amor.

Weekend Adventures

One evening this past week, Arthur asked me at dinner if we had any plans for the weekend.  At that point we didn't have anything on the schedule yet.  He stated, "We need to do something.  We hung out around here last weekend and we can't do that again.  After all, we are young and newly married and should make the most of this point in our lives to do things so we need to have plans for the weekend."  Truthfully, we aren't as boring as we sound.  We did hang out around our place last weekend but that has been rare.  During the past month we visited Arthur's parents, went to a K-State football game, attended the Kansas State Fair, and most recently checked out the Scottish Highland Festival in McPherson.

Last year I took Arthur to the State Fair for the first time.  I grew up going every year since we lived close and I was usually involved in 4-H events at the Fair.  Arthur hadn't been until I took him on a date there last year and we had a wonderful time (also some great memories since it was the first time he said that he loved me--kind of mushy).  This year we decided to make the trip again.  On the way to the Fair we listened to a special on the radio with snippets about fairs and festivals such as a lady who carves cows out of butter, a guy who makes funnel cakes for a living, and interviews with the contestants in a husband calling contest.  Our first stop was the main attraction for us... the 4-H dog show.  We both likes dogs and my dog was a 4-H dog show champ on the county level (before she retired to napping on the back porch full time.)  Throughout the day we watched the dog agility contest off and on.  This maybe wasn't the best idea because we want a dog even more now but that wouldn't be a good idea in an apartment (especially one that doesn't allow pets.)  It is amazing what the dogs have been trained to do.  We then ambled through the 4-H and Open class exhibits.  We saw the butter sculpture and the largest pumpkin.  We then headed to check out the livestock and listened in on some dairy cow judging.  Each year at the state fair you see something you have never seen before and this year for us it was Watusi cattle.  Watusi cattle are native to Africa and have huge horns that they use like radiators to cool their blood.  They put longhorns to shame.  Of course per tradition (of two years now) we shared a funnel cake. 

Another weekend outing was to the Scottish Festival.  In preparation on Friday night we watched Braveheart so we would be in touch with our inner-Scotsman.  First of all, I have never seen more kilts in one place, but I suppose that would be expected.  We watched the Highland games for awhile off and on through out the day.  Basically for the highland game events the athletes are pretty much burly guys and gals in kilts tossing insanely heavy objects around.  One of the crowd-pleasing events was the kaber toss.  The goal is to pick up a log with the dimensions of a telephone pole, balance it while running a few steps, and then toss it in the air so it flips end over end.  Other events include using something kind of like a pitchfork to toss a small bale of hay 20 or so feet in the air or hurtling 20 pound rocks as far as possible.  While I never competed in field events in track I have watched plenty of them as an athletic trainer hoping that a hammer during the hammer toss didn't get lose and conch anyone.  Anyway, technique is key for field events and it is always a pleasure to watch someone with such good technique that it almost looks effortless to see them throw a weight through the air.

Another competition we watched was the highland dancers.  Neither of us have seen highland dance before so this was interesting.  All the dancers do the same dances- a jig, The Sailor's Hornpipe, and the Scottish Lilt- with a few variations in dance steps between competitors.  Highland dancing involves a lot of jumping, intricate stepping and footwork, and kicks.  These competitors were a different group than those competing in the Highland games (except they all wore kilts) but both events required athleticism that should be appreciated.

Throughout the day we heard lots of bag pipe music.  I am not musical at all, and I love a good bag pipe, but it always sounds like they are playing one of two songs-- either Amazing Grace or a bag pipe song that isn't Amazing Grace.

Another highlight was watching sheepdog demonstrations.  Arthur had a border collie growing up and has a deep love for this breed so he was pretty excited to get the chance to watch some in action working sheep- so much that we watched the demonstration multiple times.  These dogs go after their work with such intensity-- it is obvious they love and live for herding sheep.  Yet again, it was amazing to watch the grace and skill that these highly trained dogs, as well as their trainer, exhibited.  I joked with Arthur that he's a lot like a border collie.  He has a passion for his work and does his job with such intensity that it is very hard to distract him.  The trainer also made the comment that the dogs don't make good house dogs because if they don't have a job or task to do they get into trouble easily.  I made that same comment to Arthur that morning in the kitchen when he was playing around, creating mischief, until I had him put away dishes.

We also tried some Scottish fare for lunch.  Arthur had the brilliant idea that we have some haggis.  I said sure, not really knowing what I was doing.  Luckily that line was too long so we had steak bridie, a meat filled pastry, instead.  I just looked up what haggis is and am very glad I didn't have to partake in it.  Here is the description from Wikipedia.  "Haggis is a savory pudding containing sheep's  heart, liver, and lungs, minced with onion, oatmeal, spices, and salt, and traditionally encased in the animal's stomach and simmered for approximately three hours". Dodged a bullet there.

Really our weekend adventures have taken us to experience a lot of new things.  One of my thoughts has been that we love competition.  At least for me it has been refreshing to see more of the less-mainstream competitions in a culture that is tuned into ESPN and athlete's every move.  While none of these competitions drew huge crowds of screaming fans, the competitors still put in a lot of time and effort to achieve what they did.  Sure we enjoyed the traditional athletic competition like the K-State football game but have also enjoyed watching the thrill of victory when a lady broke a world's record in the highland games, or there was the frustration of a 4-H when her dog wouldn't listen to commands, or the disappointment of a highland dancer when her shoe came untied causing her to miss several steps in her performance.  It is all part of the human experience.  Sometimes life gives you funnel cake, and sometimes you get haggis but omnia vincit amor.