Twas a good day to ride

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It was a good day to ride.

This time of year mid to late February is the time of year that I become anxious maybe even restless to ride my bike outdoors on the Little Miami Trail.

It was a good day to ride.

It was chilly out. I asked Alexa and it reported that it was 48 degrees outside but I ignored that assessment because the sun was shining outside my windows.

It was a good day to ride.

I read with interest as MSN weather on my computer reported that there was little wind only a light breeze from the south. South is good I thought as I examined the leafless trees and bushes outside the window.

It was a good day to ride.

It is rare that in mid-February in Ohio the weather warms to Fahrenheit’s measurement of 60 and the sun is shining and there is little wind and the LMT macadam will be dry.

It was a good day to ride.

I said in my head, “Remember you haven’t sat on that for twelve weeks or so. Remember to ride with prudence. Remember to look down when you stop, if you stop, and do not put your foot into a hole where you stop.”

It was a good day to ride.

I put my bike and the rest of my equipment in the back of my Nissan Rogue and drove to the end of my road to park in the lot near where I ride on the LMT.

It was a good day to ride.

In the lot as I listened to the battery pump inflate the rear tire of my Trek to 60 pounds per square inch, I looked around the nearby field. No snow. A hawk was flying overhead searching for breakfast.

It was a good day to ride.

As I listened to the pump inflate the front tire, I looked through the rest of my bag to find my helmet and my gloves. Satisfied that I was not missing anything I put my water bottle into its holder on the frame.

It was a good day to ride.

The pump shut off automatically and I disconnected it from the stem, unplugged the battery and placed it back in the bag.

It was a good day to ride.

I clipped my cellphone to its holder on the handle bar, adjusted my little fanny pack with my wallet and keys, made one last check of the car and locked the doors.

It was a good day to ride.

I mounted my Trek and looked at the position of the derailleurs. I had garaged it with both in the proper position for an old man to ride off without straining a hamstring.

It was a good day to ride.

I spun the right pedal up to push off. I took one more look around at the weather, my surroundings and any unnoticed grid lock in the parking area on this beautiful great day to ride in February. I was alone.

It was a good day to ride.

I pushed off and reminded myself, five miles this time, feel the air, listen to your muscles, hear your heartbeat, stop and stretch if I need to do it.

It was a good day to ride.

There were a few walkers. There were a few dog walkers. I rode to 47.5 painted on the LMT surface near a good place for breakfast if I wanted it. I did not.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn and rode back past the horse paddocks and the lot where I had parked. I rode south to the 50 painted on the macadam. I rode past the portion of the trail trying to slide down the hill. It has needed repair for some time. It is well marked and I ride around the damage.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn just south of the 50 and on my return to the north I heard a friendly, “On your left!” I replied with, “Thanks” as he went by and thought to myself that he was not going much faster than I was at the time.

It was a great day to ride. And I felt I was home. I was proud of myself for sticking to my five miles today.

Back at the car I reversed the unload process and put all in the back of my Rogue. I started the car and lowered the windows. I ate a few peanuts that I had with me and reflected on how great it was that the universe put me here at this time and gave me the health to enjoy the now.

It was a great day to ride.

On the way home from my first jaunt on the trail, I saw two does by the side of the road chatting about what a great day it was… or simply socializing… or discussing ways to get rid of their winter coats… or hiding from the stags.

Back in my garage I left the bike in the back of the car. Another opportunity could present itself. I need to be present for it.

It is simply a great day.

Carpe Diem.

The New Pot

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Life is certainly off to a good start this week. I cooked dinner last evening for Debbie. Her day was filled with grandma activities with one bunch and then the final solution of the car that turned into a tumble weed in a snow storm. It turned out to be the best roasted chicken I have had in awhile. Using the right equipment makes a big difference.

As I reported in an earlier post I purchased a new Staub cocotte from King Arthur baking. My original thought was to go all in on sourdough but I am thinking about stews and other pot recipes while we are still experiencing cooler temperatures in Ohio.

Roast Chicken in the NEW pot

INGREDIENTS

  • 1 (3 1⁄2-to 4-pound) chicken
  • Salt
  • 1 1⁄2 pounds fingerling potatoes, cut in half lengthwise if large (or quartered if larger)
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 lemon, cut in half
  • 1 head of garlic, cut in half, horizontally
  • 1 red onion, peeled and quartered
  • 1 tablespoon assorted chopped fresh herbs, such as thyme and rosemary
  • 1⁄4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature

HOW TO MAKE IT:

  1. Place the chicken on a baking sheet fitted with a wire rack. Liberally sprinkle salt all over the chicken, loosely cover the chicken with parchment paper, and refrigerate for 24 hours. — [I started and stopped the preparation of this a couple times and eventually allowed the chicken to partially thaw overnight in the fridge. In the morning I thawed it the rest of the way in a bowl of brine,]
  2. Preheat the oven to 500°F. Let the chicken come to room temperature for about 30 minutes before roasting.
  3. In a medium bowl, toss the potatoes with 2 tablespoons of the oil and a big pinch of salt and pepper. Arrange the potatoes in a single layer in the bottom of a large cast-iron cocotte. Add the lemon halves, garlic halves, and red onion quarters. Drizzle with the remaining 1 tablespoon oil. — [I skipped the lemon and added cloves of garlic.]
  4. In a small bowl, stir the herbs into the butter. [no butter here, just olive oil and Old Bay seasoning. My favorite shortcut.] Gently separate the chicken skin from the meat and rub the butter mixture under and on top of the skin and all over the thighs and breasts. Place the chicken on top of the vegetables in the cocotte [smush the potatoes to the side to get the chicken it – breast side up] and roast for 20 minutes.
  5. Decrease the oven temperature to 350°F and continue roasting for 30 to 40 minutes, until a meat thermometer reads 165°F when inserted between the thigh and the breast. [mine was actually 180 or so because of extra snuggling]
  6. Remove the chicken from the oven, tent with aluminum foil, and allow the chicken to rest for at 10 minutes before carving and serving.

As a side dish I was able to successfully replicate Debbie’s Green Beans. This signature dish of hers is only served during holiday dinners and requires two trash can sized cans of green beans. During an emergency run to a close by Target for coffee, I purchased two smaller regular sized, not-for-feeding-many-kids sized cans of Delmonti green beans. In a 3 quart pot I fried a strip of chopped bacon and a little of the red onion from above. I drained one can of beans of its water and then added both to the pot after sizzling the onion for a bit in the bacon fat. I put the lid on and let them simmer while the chicken was doing its thing in the oven and we snuggled on the couch and talked about the day.

When I got up to change the oven temperature, I warmed up the giblet gravy that I had started previously and finished it with some cornstarch to thicken a bit. I am a big fan of gravy and meat broths. This version to me is heavenly.

A good sourdough would pair perfectly with this dinner. And perhaps a nice Chardonnay.

Carpe bon appetit Diem

A Kettle of Fish (or Virus Incubator)

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Well that’s a fine kettle of fish!

Today I have one of those annoying winter colds that come around once in a while. Stuffy runny nose and itchy eyes and general malaise are my symptoms.

I can whine but I will not. Maybe I will a little. I cannot recall when I have had a cold in winter.

This invasion by some wretched rhinovirus, this metabolic hijacker, this putrid pathogen has selected me for its replicative host. Damnation I say!

Come on T-cells! Help is needed now!

In other news, it is 42 degrees Fahrenheit outside today.

The snow is melting and the cardinals are exited.

Carpe Diem.

Morning News

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Coffee

This morning on the CBS news they reported on a piece about an association with drinking coffee and a resistance to dementia. Good News! Us coffee drinkers will not be demented – later in life? Ever? Only in our nineties? Oh wait. She said association. That term has a very specific meaning to statistical studies.

This study was based on the female participants in the Nurses’ Health Study (NHS; n = 86 606 with data from 1980-2023) and male participants from the Health Professionals Follow-up Study (HPFS; n = 45 215 with data from 1986-2023) who did not have cancer, Parkinson disease, or dementia at study entry (baseline) in the US.

You have got to love those numbers. Health care workers have been drinking coffee for forty-three years. And recording it.

Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA): https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2844764

From JAMA — Conclusions and Relevance:  Greater consumption of caffeinated coffee and tea was associated with lower risk of dementia and modestly better cognitive function, with the most pronounced association at moderate intake levels. (I want to say, “Hell yeah!” here.)

Association — Association refers to the general relationship and is normally used for studying relationship between two nominal/categorical/ordinal attributes;

Correlation — whereas correlation refers to a linear relationship between two quantitative attributes. It would not be out of context to mention here that the relationship between two quantitative variables can even be a nonlinear as well such as curvilinear or exponential.

[from https://journals.lww.com/cmre/fulltext/2021/11010/understanding_statistical_association_and.7.aspx%5D

Causation — Causation means that a change in one variable causes a change in another variable.

So, to conclude, not drinking coffee does not cause dementia. It might cause those sleepy “whaat?” looks that teens display in early morning classes but the WL study is incomplete at this time.

I am interested in statistical analysis. The math is attractive to me. I am deficient at recognizing patterns but I do recognize my wakefulness after coffee in the morning.

A shot of whiskey in the evening seems to aid in sleepiness at bedtime too.

Carpe coffee Diem.

Morning Routines

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We all have morning routines. Mine centers around finding coffee and reading the news while I listen to the newsy shows on TV. When Tera comes on to tell me the weather of the past in the present and for the future, I listen. Her enthusiasm captures my interest for a moment. I turn my attention to the puzzles in the New York Times. Wordle solved I turn my attention to the Connections.

Lately the connections puzzle has me staring at the final category (purple) to discover the connection before I click submit.

This is Monday. The empty trash bin needs to return to its special place in the garage. I often return my neighbor’s bin to its special place.

While in the midst of this early routine I scan my emails and look at other bloggers that I follow. Proverbs27Flocks writes about a gluten free chocolate banana bread recipe. I have some bananas getting ready in the fruit bowl. I want to try his recipe later in the week.

Morning routine get me going.

Some use prayer and meditation. I use this time to write and think about what will come.

Today Debbie and I will visit the tow yard where her daughter’s car landed after going slippy slidey in the ice and snow one day while we were enjoying the Florida sunshine.

Right now, however, more coffee is required.

Carpe Diem.

Thoughts

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I bought a cocotte from King Arthur’s baking. A few weeks ago I re-interested myself in sourdough bread and other similar recipes. Although I used my dutch oven for this in the past I felt the need to up my game.

The cocotte is red and made by Staub in France. Ou la la – but here is an intriguing thought – check out these definitions from and online dictionary and Merriam Webster’ online dictionary:

co·cotte – (/kōˈkät,kəˈkät/)

noun: cocotte; plural noun: cocottes; noun: en cocotte; plural noun: en cocottes — a small heatproof dish in which individual portions of food can be cooked and served; a Dutch oven.

And M-W

cocotte (kȯ-ˈkȯt)

noun: Definition of cocotte: as in prostitute; a woman who engages in sexual activities for money

Those are very different definitions. M-W gives examples of use in a sentence;

The skillets, cocottes, braisers, and baking dishes are all oven-safe and come in a uniform matte black finish. — Clint Davis, People.com, 15 Mar. 2025; The dishes available in the Gourmand collection include cocottes (with and without lids), mini braisers (with and without lids), oval bakers, rectangular bakers, and skillets. — Sophia Beams, Better Homes & Gardens, 27 Feb. 2025; Get some cute the itty-bitty pans, like GreenPan mini egg pan, or a tiny cocotte from the maker of our favorite Dutch ovens (these are perfect for baked eggs). — Wilder Davies, Bon Appétit, 16 July 2024; At under $100, this adorable cocotte set won’t break the bank. — Amber C. Snider, Peoplemag, 25 May 2024

Down the rabbit hole I went. One is a pot. The other is a word for the ladies that General Joe Hooker, coincidentally buried in Spring Grove Cemetery in Cincinnati, brought to his troops to be assured that his men were satisfied in every way. (You can laugh.)

From the American Heritage Dictionary – affectionately known by me as the big dic – a clue! The etymological entry writes – French – originally a baby’s word for hen.

AHA! The connection between available females and chicken pots. One of the recipe photos included with the pot shows a roasted chicken in the pot.

Off to find recipes for my new pot to christen its use, I found this one I had saved previously:

Old-Fashioned Beef Stew – By Molly O’Neill – Updated Sept. 30, 2024

Ingredients (Yield:4 servings)

  • • ¼ cup all-purpose flour
  • • ¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
  • • 1 pound beef stewing meat, trimmed and cut into inch cubes
  • • 5 teaspoons vegetable oil
  • • 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • • 1 cup red wine
  • • 3½ cups beef broth, homemade or low-sodium canned
  • • 2 bay leaves
  • • 1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
  • • 5 medium carrots, peeled and cut into ¼-inch rounds
  • • 2 large baking potatoes, peeled and cut into ¾-inch cubes
  • • 2 teaspoons salt

Step 1 – Combine the flour and pepper in a bowl, add the beef and toss to coat well. Heat 3 teaspoons of the oil in a large pot. Add the beef a few pieces at a time; do not overcrowd. Cook, turning the pieces until beef is browned on all sides, about 5 minutes per batch; add more oil as needed between batches.

Step 2 – Remove the beef from the pot and add the vinegar and wine. Cook over medium-high heat, scraping the pan with a wooden spoon to loosen any browned bits. Add the beef, beef broth and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a slow simmer.

Step 3 – Cover and cook, skimming broth from time to time, until the beef is tender, about 1½ hours. Add the onions and carrots and simmer, covered, for 10 minutes. Add the potatoes and simmer until vegetables are tender, about 30 minutes more. Add broth or water if the stew is dry. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Ladle among 4 bowls and serve.

Sadly, I am out of onions and potatoes. I purposely used them up before going to Florida two weeks ago. I will go shopping very soon. Stew seems like a good idea when it is cold outside.

This is fancier than my stew but it is my new cocotte.

Carpe Diem.

Little Women

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I stood on the scale and as luck would have it, no weight loss and no weight gain either.

Huh. Alas. Alack. Oh whoa is me. Or is it?

The new snow is coating the grass.

The early morning sky is azure blue as the sun blazes near the eastern horizon.

The chilly birds are dive bombing Jane’s feeder next door.

It is a new day!

These thoughts come to me in rapid fire as I awaken more fully while drinking my coffee and thinking about the previous evening. The play “Little Women” was excellent. The production itself is a co-production, a special partnership between two theaters working on a single play. The play was staged first in Portland and then here in Cincinnati. Debbie and I went to see it last night during one of our field trips. The play itself tells the stories within Little Women but focuses on Louisa May Alcott as a writer and her life.

At intermission we had a conversation with a younger man seated next to us. He asked how longer we had been together. I responded with “about a year and a half.” I did not think much of it but Debbie picked up on the fact that he thought I was joking. Debbie talked to him for a bit and found out that he was from out of town.

Later as we drove home she told me that he thought we had been together for a long time, an easy assumption to make since we are both older. When she corrected his notion he was interested in our story. Her synopsis of us meeting later in life interested him.

Yesterday was a pleasant day. The play was well done.

There have been many instances now where total strangers have commented on the love and affection vibe that they perceive between us.

I feel that way about Debbie and she feels that way about me.

It shows.

Carpe Diem.

Friday

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This day of the week has over time become special to me and to Debbie and I.

Last year the part time teaching job I had with a local community college involved maintaining an open lab on Wednesday and Thursday evenings as well as Tuesday mornings. Debbie works in her profession on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday also. I remarked once to her that our Friday came on Thursday, so our Saturday came on Friday. It was our day of relaxation, dinner or lunch and other dates.

The movie theaters are very uncrowded on Fridays. Sometimes in our favorite theater us and one other couple are watching the film. I like that.

When I bought tickets to the play we are going to see tonight I specifically picked the Friday performance.

When we started dating, that term seemed foreign to me. I referred to our outings as field trips. I think, I am certain, I was hunting for a term that would not hurt Cheryl’s feelings. Cheryl had passed on from this earthly existence but then as now she is still in my heart. Field trip is a term Debbie and I still use to describe our date activities. Much like a term of endearment it is a code, a phrase with a personal meaning for being together and enjoyment of an activity.

“We need a field trip.” she will say. My reply is yes we do and off we go to dinner and a movie or something.

Today the field trip is an afternoon luncheon and later this evening the play at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park. The performance is “Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” an adaptation by playwright Lauren M. Gunderson. I am looking forward to it for several reasons. It is coming to Cincinnati directly from Portland where my sister lives. Some of the actors are from there. I could not get through the book earlier in my life so I am inclined to find it in the library and read it again to see if my reading tastes have changed as I grow older. However, the real reason is that I have an opportunity to spend time with Debbie.

We will talk and muse about the past week. We will discuss Florida again. It is currently snowing in our part of the world so we will complain a bit about that. Afterward we will discuss the play itself over a glass of wine and maybe a snack.

We are going tonight because our trip to Florida bumped this play from our schedule last week. Another field trip is what we both need during this snowy season in Ohio.

We could stay in and whine about the weather or we could ignore it and rejoice in life and its pleasurable attributes. Soon the snow will be over.

Snow-mageddon be damned. We are going to the play.

Carpe Diem.

Diet Ideas

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Another Stuff Soup:

Winter is the time of year that I find myself scrutinizing the number on the bathroom scale when I stand on it. I have found that it matters not if I stand on it everyday or if I stand on it at random times or if I stand on it once a week, it always reports the same thing. A lot of food has gone into me and only a small amount did not stick to my skeleton.

I like to eat. I admit that. Debbie and I have been eating out more of late. Much of that is last week’s trip to Florida.

RFK jr. and the boys say I should eat more protein because I am older. His math reports 127 grams (4.5 oz.) per day. A handful of peanuts, I like roasted peanuts and I have roasted my own, contains about an ounce (28g) with about 170 kilo calories and 8g of protein.

The tasteless skinless gargantuan frozen chicken breasts I have in my freezer come in at 200 kilo calories and 38-ish grams of protein. This comment, “A standard 3.5-ounce (85g) raw breast has about 102 calories and 19g of protein” from Google’s AI made me laugh. The chicken breasts I have are much more robust than this assessment, so I cut them in half before freezing them. I have often wondered if the chickens that I have purchased were able to walk upright.

Chickpeas (46 kcal/3g) per 28g and beans (36 kcal/2.3g) of any kind are generally a good source of plant protein with the added benefit of fiber to fart with and feel full.

I detect some soup coming on. Chicken noodle soup with chickpeas and veggies. All of my home made soup recipes fall into the category of “stuff” soup, as in, find some stuff and make soup. Or empty the left over fresh veggies in the fridge into a pot and make soup. It is a remarkably easy process.

For this version:

  • 3-4 oz. Chicken breast – skinless and uninteresting
  • 12 oz. Can of peas and carrots – also uninteresting
  • 12 oz. Can of chickpeas – leftover from a hummus experiment
  • 32 oz. Box of chicken broth
  • 10 oz. Bundle of Thai wheat noodles – from another cooking caper
  • 1 tsp. cardamom – a great background spice for chickeny stuff
  • 2 chicken bullion cubes
  • salt and pepper as needed – taste it for this step (Do not burn your tongue!)

Dump the stuff – except the noodles – into a dutch oven or other suitable pot with a lid. Lid on. Thirty minutes or so to simmer after bringing to a low boil. Chop the chicken however you like it. After the thirty minutes toss in the bundle of Thai noodles (lid back on) and wait another ten minutes or so before tasting and adjusting the salt and spices. Leave the lid off and bring to a low simmering boil for twenty minutes or so.

Oranges are low in kilo calories and protein but I ate one while waiting for the soup to simmer to the end.

Lunch is ready. Crackers are good with this soup. Almost no protein in crackers.

Maybe I will stand on the scale tomorrow.

Carpe Diem.

Longing for Spring

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Last week we returned from a midwinter trip to southern Florida to our home here in the “Heart of it All” Ohio. I like the slogan. Close your eyes a little and squint at the shape of the state. It is slightly heart shaped. These days here it is a cold heart.

Sit back and relax while I whine a little about the Ohio winter made worse by visiting Florida in late January. I am just starting to understand the snowbird phenomenon and why Delta Airlines has direct flights from Cincinnati to Naples, Florida bypassing their home port Atlanta, Georgia which is actually on the way.

When Cheryl was still here, winter weather was terrifying for two reasons. The first was obvious. She did not move well with her Parkinson ailment, so, any slippery surface was an opportunity for a catastrophic fall. She did not think well with her dementia ailment, so the winter darkness brought on strange behaviors that I did my best to help her cope with. We did many late night drives around a four mile loop I invented on the fly to take her home because her sun-downers syndrome convinced her that she was not home. Once I took a different path “home” and she told me, “This isn’t the way home.” I never varied from my original route after that comment.

I am not terrified of Ohio winter any longer. Inconvenienced perhaps. Uninterested in winter sports perhaps. There is a great sledding hill just across the street on an old abandoned golf course but I am not going there.

Going for a walk is inconvenient. Most folks just shovel off the driveway if they shovel anything at all.

Going for a bike ride is out of the question for similar reasons to those of walking. Many drivers are incompetent at that in normal daylight dry conditions. Cabin fever makes them aggressive it seems or maybe they are upset that the dairy guy is unable to refill the shelves in a timely manner and they will miss out. FOMO sires aggressiveness. Bicycle riders be damned. And it is too cold in any case, I am a warm weather rider.

Mostly winter anywhere is just gray while the world awaits the return of the sunlight and warmth. The view of the woods from my living room window will be bleak and gray for a few weeks more. And just as I am thinking these sad thoughts, a cardinal appears in view outside of that window and lifts my spirits.

He is wearing his best late winter plumage. He is looking for a mate. His distinctness against the gray and white is fantastical. He whispers change is coming. He cheeps a little because there are no females in this woods. He is off again.

This picture is from my trail camera that Debbie gave me for Christmas.

Spring is coming.

Carpe Diem.