a visit to DBC in boston: test-riding the 'swift'.

It's taken me a month to get to this post.  On one hand, it's about sloth-- here and there I've been busy, but for the most part I've settled into a state of mild but ambivalent productivity that is appropriate to my status as an underemployed summering graduate student.  On the other hand, however, this is about my inability to explain things that move me in a certain way, moments of pure joy and freedom.  Like when I played in the Pacific Ocean last summer in San Diego-- the bliss was inexplicable and vast, hard to put my finger on. So I don't really talk about it, because it feels kind of sacred.

Ok, now that we've established that, you can be aghast:

"You felt that way test-riding a bike?!?!"

I know, I know.  It's a little superlative.  

When I visited my best friend in Boston last month-- every Philadelphian should have a cleaner city nearby to escape to from time to time-- I found myself with a morning to myself while she worked.  In the interests of "doing things right" and "getting some blog material" and also, duh, "my interests," I looked to see if there were any Dutch bike shops in Boston.  When I go to Boston, I actually spend most of my time in Cambridge, and let me tell you something-- Cambridge bicycle culture is the jam.  People tend to ride functional, sometimes beautiful bikes with helmets and lights; the bike lanes are plentiful, and (by MIT) sometimes even separate from traffic; there are oodles of folding bikes.  To a spectator- it's orderly, pragmatic, pleasant, plain clothes.  Riding in Boston, I hear, is a bit more aggressive, but let's not get too far away from my impressions of Boston as bike paradise.

So all of this in mind, I made my way out to Somerville, sort-of near Tufts, to City Bikes (lest they be confused with other Dutch Bicycle Companies, though I think they go by DBC).  All I knew going in was that they were Dutch bike dealers building their own bikes.  I expected a traditional bicycle showroom, but it's a little more casual than that-- which I think gets at the practical sensibility at the heart of the City Bikes program.

City Bikes started out with the desire to solve some of the problems of the Dutch bicycle-- the incredible weight, the sometimes wobbly steering, the increasingly cheap components used on bikes for American import.  They recruited an army of MIT engineers (ok, maybe not that many) to come up with a host of frame designs that looked just right, to get a geometry that felt just right, to make a bike ideally suited to the rigors and challenges of American urban riding.  Anywhere they could've cut corners, they didn't-- they used American materials (like Pennsylvania steel!), rebuilt headlights, and selected the very best components.  What they got surprised them: they hadn't expected it to be so perfect.

If you're surprised that you haven't yet heard of City Bikes, that's kind of on purpose-- they are doing everything they can to meet demand as it is.  We all know the demand that's faced other custom builders, like Sweetpea or Vanilla.  When I visited, the only City Bike in the showroom was the men's prototype and an unbuilt women's frame.  

ladies frame

As it is, you can order a bike to fit your measurements with the paint job you want for ~$2400.  For Boston residents, City Bikes is offering lifetime maintenance because they believe in the quality of their bikes.  For people living within 2 hours, they're offering an installment payment plan.  

What can I say about test-riding the Swift?  It's a bike-riders' bike.  It's responsive, easy to recover when you pitch yourself sideways.  The posturing is perfect, the bike is not heavy, it's elegant.  The time I spent on that bike may have been some of the best ten minutes of my summer-- they were lucky I left my purse in the office, I might not have come back.  Riding this bike-- it was my playing in the ocean moment. I can't really explain it. It was how riding bikes ought to be. You could have never ridden a bike before and get on this bike and think it's nice, but I think it might take someone a little more seasoned to appreciate what's going on here in terms of craftsmanship and deliberate design choices.  If I could afford one, I would buy one.

Obviously, if you find yourself in Boston, a City Bikes visit is mandatory.  Dan and Maria are gracious bike enthusiasts who you'll want to spend some time with.  I can't do justice to how excited I was when I left.  Make sure you bring an extra couple grand when you visit-- you'll want to buy one of these beautiful bikes before everybody else finds out about them.  

Dan and Maria, if you see this-- please feel free to make any corrections in the comments!

This video is found on their website- it includes a teensy portion of what I learned during my visit:

lgrab summer games, social cycling challenge.

I'm a little late to the Let's Go Ride A Bike Summer Games-- but this is my official contribution: 
I had a lovely chat with a lovely lady cyclist on May 26th.  It was about 12:45pm and we were headed southbound at 12th and Spring Garden (kind of a wackjob intersection with a long light and the end of the bike lane in a spot that really needs the bike lane to continue).  She was helmet-less, dressed in a gauzy dress with dark hair and elegant tattoos-- a regular cycling apparition, the kind of person that I saw and thought, "Yes, she is one of us!"  She was riding a shiny emerald green bike-- and lo, she is herself from the Emerald City! We both agreed that Philly is divine for being car-free and riding bikes with just a few gears.  Lesson learned: I need to roll up to people and say, "I love your bike!" more often. Solidarity, sisters!


Ok, but here's the kicker to all this cycling sociality-- somebody left me a note on the Old Dutch Treat yesterday.  The preface to this is that usually I lock my helmet up with my bike so I don't have to be the girl in the bar / grocery store / restaurant / school slinging around an unweildy noggin-protector as I go about my business.  Anyways, it's been a while since somebody left me a bike note, so I was pretty excited to find this little note sitting in my helmet when I came out of Bob and Barbara's last night.


The outside read:

And then I opened it up:

I laughed out loud. I'm not sure whether it was a threat or a prophecy, but to me, it's classic Philly.  It definitely made me feel like, "Oh Philadelphia, social cycling is ON." Watch out folks!

The note proved useful though (beyond eliciting continuous smiles), as it was written on a flyer for a new used bookstore that I've heard good things about but had forgotten to check out.  Ride on...

tacoma biking, part 1: my little french friend.

This blog isn't dead! Really! Between the end of the semester and being called home last week for family business, I haven't had a whole lot of blogging energy.  But I'm done! I'm back! So get ready for me to start blowing up your Google Reader like whoa.


The first two days of my trip came at the end of #30daysofbiking.  I was really committed and wanted to ensure that in spite of my travel and stresses, I met the goal.  As I was to be spending a lot of time going back and forth between two family homes linked by a bike lane, biking at home was an easy and feasible transportation choice.  Big Brother asked a family friend if I could borrow the vintage Peugeot folding bike that BB rehabbed last winter. Alas, to my delight, me and The Peug were joined together for 8 wonderful days. The link above will give you better insight into the specs of the bike, so now I can just prattle on about the bike's awesomeness.

This bike fits me the best of any bike I have ever ridden.  I have a long torso and short inseam, so my smallest-size Old Dutch is a bit of the stretch, and the Dahon is you know, fine.  But The Peug fits perfect.

This bike is what you would see if the Old Dutch Treat and the Dahon had a baby.  Size-wise, The Peug would fit nicely in a car trunk or small apartment.  Size isn't everything, though, so you still get all the amenities of a city bike- nice upright position, a skirt-friendly frame, built-in lights, and a rear rack.  The positioning is great-- riding the bike, it feels like your sternum is being thrust out in a very "Hello, World!" kind of way.  Compact bike happiness if I ever saw it.


We are very grateful that the person who loaned me the bike generously ended up giving The Peug to our family.  I am looking forward to riding this bike when I go home at the end of the summer... and will probably start trolling Craigslist for one of my own.  It's that fantastic.

 

Moms and daughters alike love Peugeot folding bikes!

some thoughts on #30daysofbiking.

I was thinking about this post and how it would be good for the end of the month, and then I was like no.  Victory narratives are good, but you guys already know I'm a champ.*  What we need around here is some process.  Nitty gritty process.  


I got on the Thirty Days of Biking train at the end of the worst week of cycling I had ever had.  I had been riding the folding bike for a month straight, I had witnessed an awful, head-mangling crash, and then I had to ride a bajillion miles over the course of several subsequent soakedawfulrainy days.  


Biking.  I was so over it.  


So Thirty Days of Biking came at a moment when I wanted little to do with bikes.  Literally, April 1st was a beautiful day and as I was headed out to a meeting, I was pumping up my folding bike tires, got impatient, jerked a valve and gave myself a flat.  So. over. it.  


Later in the day I found out about Thirty Days of Biking, and determined I had to get the Old Dutch back together.  I had to see if I couldn't reclaim some of the joy.  Because this blog isn't called Church of the Granny Bike for nothing, and I'm the kind of person who stops going to church if there isn't any joy in it.


So.  I had some work to do.  And my roommate did too, because that chain wasn't going to put itself back on.**


My first ride was at night.  The first thing I noticed was that I had gotten faster from riding that teensy bike.  The second thing I noticed was the way the wind felt against my face.  Feeling the wind on my face again-- in that special way that one can only feel on a big steel upright bike***-- gave me hope.  I might be able to enjoy this.


It's been a gift getting reacquainted with the Old Dutch.  Going out on it every day has challenged me to actually leave me house every day.  Did you know I can be kind of a hermit?  To meet my daily ride quota (just one!), I've actually taken the bike out just for fun.  I've been more prompt about doing errands instead of combining trips.  I've wondered why I wasn't riding my bike every day.  I've given in to urges to make banana bread, urges to circle around Swann Fountain, and urges to ride around in short short dresses in spite of the wind.  


It wasn't until today-- after I put the seat up a bit, and after somebody had manhandled the ODT in an effort to have it for their very own-- that I felt truly reconnected.  Hightailing it out of the unfamiliar neighborhood, I couldn't help but feel like I was on parade, showing the whole damn world that the Old Dutch Treat [!] is my bike, and that smile on my face is there because I'm having so much fun riding it.  


It was perfect.




*this blog is all about meeeeeeeee!
**I am now an expert at this.
***yep. if it's not steel, you can't have that feeling. sorry.

randoseru: the perfect cute backpack for bicycle commuting.

I'm here today to tell you about my Mom.

She's pretty special. She lives in Japan and knows just what I like.

Such as very early birthday presents.

She saw the little kids in Japan wearing these backpacks- randoseru- and knew that it would be just the thing for bike commuting.

She scoured and scoured ebay until she found the perfect one.

It's made out of a horse.

Horse leather, that is.

It's red because the girls in Japan get the red ones. I like the red- it's very high vis.

As you can see, it's very finely crafted. The randoseru are made for the children to wear as a part of their uniforms through six  primary school years.  

The clasp closes magnetically and can also be locked with that little swivel.  The straps swivel as well.  I love the metal construction- it is industrial.

The back is cushy, as are the straps.  They are also adjustable.

The randoseru has a see-through pocket for your homework, forms for your parents to sign, or if you're a history grad student, your "haircuts of the U.S. presidents" print-out.

I have the hardest time remembering who the Gilded Age presidents were.

The front pocket zips closed and is perfect for pens and wallets and lipgloss and such.  The front has a see-through space your ID. But not your id. 

This randoseru has really adorable white piping. 

It has a deep storage compartment that would fit three or four history monographs and some composition books.

It sits up really high on your back for proper ergonomics.

My mom would probably suggest that I move that towel before taking pictures to post on the internet. At least she taught me how to apply mascara.

Water rolls right off the back when it's raining- I made it through a storm yesterday and all my stuff stayed perfectly dry.

Isn't my mom the coolest?

(these pictures brought to you by photo booth, since my camera was never recovered)

my life in bike stats.

Big Brother and I have a monthly bicycle miles accountability routine.  Tonight we checked in and I went a little crazy with my numbers.  They reveal a lot about my habits- though not entirely, as there was a lot more bussing, subway-ing, and walking in January than a typical in-school month.  But here's what I was up to on my bike:


I rode 118 miles.
I rode 82 of my total miles on or after school started on January 19.


I rode 35.3 of my total miles at night.  
Are you watching for bikes when you drive at night?


I failed to encounter zen and the art of bicycle maintenance.


I averaged 3.8 miles a day, or 6.2 on days that I rode (I like my days off).
My average round trip was 4.9 miles.

A. 32% of my miles involved acquiring or imbibing drink.*
B. 27% of my miles involved picking up library books or amazon.com orders from the post office.
C. 26% of my miles involved getting groceries.


There was no overlap between A and B or A and C. There was a teensy bit of overlap between B and C thanks to a sweet new supermarket by my school.


I had a Church of the Granny Bike moment on my folding bike.


I made 15 round trips on the Dahon.
I made 11 round trips on the Old Dutch Treat.
This was the first month that I've ridden the Hello Kitty bike more, thanks to my snazzy new headlight.


I've ridden approximately 685 miles since going car-free last August.  Amazing what the body can do without the Honda, isn't it?




All routes were checked using Google Maps. My lifetime car-free cumulative numbers include some earnest fudging from unrecorded rides early on and when I was on vacation away from my lovely spreadsheet.  All errors are due to the fact that I'm a historian who's never taken a statistics class. All bike miles were accrued wearing regular clothes for the purpose of transportation. All January miles were accrued wearing a helmet.


*Know your limits before you get on your bike and plan accordingly (that's how I roll). Drink and ride responsibly, judiciously, or not at all. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life so don't blame me, sue me, or judge me.  I'm not looking for a conversation, that is, unless you are the awesome dude who was hauling a mega-case of bottles on your front rack in 20 degree weather the other day.  Because that was awesome and required some serious skills.

unexpected day in the life.

Give me a day that starts out with me falling asleep around 4am.


I'll tell you that it's not going to be a good day.  There's that midday social obligation.  There's articles to read.  There's all those bike miles to add up.  There's that class I'm not interested in, talking about that book that I didn't get much out of with that group of people who bore me with that nutty professor.  That's going to happen.


Ugh.


I'm going to wake up a little grumpy.


And things are going to add up.


That toast is delicious.  And that music?  It's music to my ears.


Those people outside the liquor store?- yes, I'm there at 11:30am- the ones who always heckle me for cash when I pretend I'm not listening?-- dollar bills all around, not really thinking about it.  It's windy, get some coffee.


Let's get on that bike, the one I fight with, the one that carries me through Center City as that van honks at me but I miss all the potholes.  Bake some cookies, my favorite thing to do.  Baking with the girls who are like my Relief Society, making our own group just like the Relief Society would've told us to.  But give us mimosas- the idea they scoffed at, drinking at noon- give us mimosas and chocolate chips and snickerdoodles.  A few hours of much needed sisterhood and that bread!  Something you could only find in Philly, that bread!


Breeze through those articles, the ones we won't talk about, and on to dinner.  Leftover spaghetti noodles somehow transform themselves into some proto-yakisoba, pan-fried noodles, onions, garlic, pea sprouts, soy sauce.  And we have that conversation, texting back and forth about that UPS guy who likes you.  I look forward to that, you know.  Coffee, yes, at 6pm, class tonight, what a bore! But I'm glad we talk- a different we- when we meet in the kitchen. I'm glad when you offer me some of that soup and when you tell me you liked the latkes I made, the ones you ate without asking.  Going to that talk tomorrow, getting an advisor tomorrow, class tomorrow.


Let's not think about tomorrow.


Let's talk about going to OAH in April, tenement style, with everyone.  Or you- the other you- call me and squeeze in that five minute conversation while you walk home and I race out the door.  Headlight, blinkee light, helmet, lock.  Green lights and minimal traffic, easy parking and not even late!


Allow me to bust out every strategy in the book to get through that class.  The instant challenge to a viewpoint that you tell me later will make me that professor, the one people are afraid to take and who challenges them to learn!  The notes to the person sitting next to me that inspire discreet smiles and solidarity.  The discussion's dragging, please, let me ask that question- the one about how this book would look if we wrote it from a different methodological perspective.  Let it be 9 o'clock when the professor starts answering that question, when he lays out how the book would be called "Spain on the Brain: Anglo Anxieties in Hispanic World, 1500-1800," and tells us the who thesis and sums up the class just perfectly in spite of repeating the phrase "Spain on the Brain" five, eight times.  Who cares if the monologue lasted 35 minutes?  It's the second time I've made this happen, that question, this monologue.  I've already forgotten I don't care about colonialism.  What a time we had with those guys! The ones who drive us crazy, the ones who tell us they enjoyed our comments and that they like our folding bike. The ones who exist only as types and never come out with us afterwards.


Beer, glorious beer, finally!  Let there be the favorite usual waitress who we always overtip at our favorite usual bar, the ones where people's eyes twinkle as the pitcher gets emptier and the light reflects off the yellow glass lamps and the dingy wood paneling.  Oh, that laugh that reminds me of my cousin, and please, tell me again that twenty-five isn't that old.


Oh you guys! You don't have to wait.  Headlight, blinkee light, helmet, lock.  I'll try that smaller intersection, just right, an easy left turn.  Why have I never taken that route before? 


Give me third gear all the way down the Parkway, wind on my face, no cars, dim lights glowing against the Art Museum.  I'm on the folding bike, it's not as blissfully cruise-y as the other bike, but wait, it is.  Sublime propulsion along the usual unnoticeable route.  Don't let the cat in, he comes in anyways, but he's home, I'm home, he's happy, I'm happy.  I'm headed up the stairs, happy because I'm leading this life that I never planned to lead, happy that I enjoyed this day that I didn't expect to enjoy.

gratitude.

It's time for the annual "I'm thankful for" list. I'm just dashing it out as I have a lot of writing to do this evening, but this really is one of my favorite yearly exercises.

I am thankful for my always supportive family. They keep me going when times are tough. They give me perspective and insight and patience and love.  In this past year in particular, they generously and graciously opened their homes to me when I needed the time and the space to rebuild my tattered sense of self. My family sustains me, and there really aren't words to express how grateful I am for that.  I couldn't do this alone. I can't wait to be with them soon!

I am thankful for opportunities. I'm grateful I'm in my seventh year of college. I'm thankful that I've been able to travel, present at conferences, meet new people, take on exciting projects, and have such a dang cool career path. I forget how awesome it is when I get caught up in the drudgery and the logistics, but I'm glad that I continuously get reminded that I am doing something special.

I am thankful I changed my life. This city, this school, this program, this life, these challenges-- they were all exactly what I needed. I have never worked so hard or put so much of myself into anything, and I'm grateful for what that experience has done to my spirit. I feel fortified. I am glad I didn't take other paths and that so many things in my life didn't happen so that I can be here, now.

I am thankful that I sold my car and became a bike commuter. The 455 miles I've ridden since moving to Philly last August have made my body fit and relieved me of so much stress.  Those miles also allow me to consume lager and fries several times a week without consequences, which I am particularly grateful for.

Which reminds me, I am thankful for my health. In a season of colds and swine flu, I feel phenomenally blessed that I have not been sick once. 

I am thankful for my friends in every time zone. I like knowing that they are out there in the world being good people and making the world a better place. It gives me hope. I am thankful that we have the bonds that we do. 

In the moment- I'm thankful I have a place to be this Thanksgiving. I'm thankful that in the past month I've become apart of a great group of friends who give me endless opportunities to laugh. I'm grateful for the prospect of pear butterscotch pie, a ride in the rain, finally being able to understand how to write about political culture, and getting to tell stories that have never been told this way.  I'm thankful for white Christmas lights and a roommate who, in five seconds, is going to ask me to help him start preparing an amazing meal for tomorrow.  And I'm thankful for all of you who read my blog and make me smile with your comments and encouragement. I have so much to be thankful for!

Happy Thanksgiving! 

philly tweed ride.

I was really there! 

Photo via veronikavsyou- check out her photostream.

Ok, so I might have been excited about the Philly Tweed Ride since the second I found out about it. But how could I not be? A bunch of finely dressed people riding bikes together? This is what I do. We were blessed with great weather for parading through the city. The part of me that's been reading about fundamentalists all week would like to think that hearts were changed and that many Center City onlookers saw the "style over speed" bicycle light this November afternoon. If anything, a lot of people saw the Old Dutch Treat and had plenty of nice things to say about my beloved beast.

At the Waterworks behind the Art Museum before the ride.

Parade through Rittenhouse Square.

Chilling at the Schuykill River Park.

It was an amazing time. I was the 49th person to sign in, and there were easily at least 20 more people who came after me. We rode through Center City (past tons of shocked Saturday shoppers on Walnut!), walked through Rittenhouse Square, played games at Schuykill River Park, rode past Independence Hall, enjoyed a pleasant regrouping at Elfreth's Alley (Philadelphia's Oldest Street!), and then terminated the ride at the choice bar / eatery The Institute (that extra bowl of chili accidentally sent up to the second floor that I got to eat? AMAZING.). I was fortunate to meet a ton of kind folks that I am proud to share the road with.  It was nice to get together with a bunch of other everyday cyclists for a little fun and to remember why doing what we do is so dang cool.

the eyes of my eyes are opened.

 e.e. cummings' "i thank you god for this most amazing" popped into my head this morning.  To me it's the happiest, sunshiney-ist poem in the world, a sincere prayer of gratitude that I have oft repeated. It reads:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

This morning I considered sarcastically rewriting it, including the damnable heavy rain and the tribulations of being a graduate student as apart of my fascetious catalog of blessings. I decided against it for sake of time (being in such a hurry to leave the house to go to school to read a book that I forgot at home, in the rush) and went on my merry day.

At midday, I hit the wall, admitted defeat, and resigned myself to the misery brought upon me by my own forgetfulness, copiers, my eagerness to sign up for conferences I don't have time for, and even my own acid tongue.  

It was an off day, and when I got home I started to tweet that the only redeeming quality of the it was that I had realized that I had good hair this morning, and throughout the mess of my day had continually been able to say, "at least I have really great hair."

But.

I kept finding things to add on that had made the day better, and had vastly exceeded my number of allowed characters with all of my qualifications.  There were so many redeeming qualities in my day! So many good people that make my life better! So many that I had to name them, one by one:

-an in-depth discussion about gin with L.

-A letting me whine ad nauseum about my troubles, including particularly pathetic complaints about soap residue. What a saint.

-unexpected professional development in class, which included a professor memorably giving a student five dollars for a well timed comment.

-Realizing with R that we constitute a peanut gallery, and getting to liken us to these guys:

(I am the short one, naturally)

-In turn, getting to talk about muppets at school.

-Did I mention how fun it is to have a girl friend here? Finally!

-A very nice girl brought "Happy World Series & Halloween" candy to class that included my favorite, Reese's PB cups.

-Seeing a modest, incredibly smart professor get the accolades she deserves. There was so much love in the room! Why do we wait until funerals to tell people how great they are?

-Free wine. Free wine. Free wine.

-M (a man) talking in a very loud voice about douching (you had to be there).

-My roommate telling me I should make cookies for our party instead of getting candy because my baking is so much better.

-A dry, low traffic, twilight ride home, complete with plenty of yellow leaves on the ground to ride through.

I don't talk to god hardly at all anymore, but some days I just have to put it out into the universe how glad I am that somebody- and so many- make(s) my life as beautiful and wonderful as it is. 

Good hair is a start, but being apart of everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes is so much better.

(excuse the wonky formatting... evil Blogger....)

may the barack be with you.

I've been tuning out politics lately (as happens when it upsets me) but was nonetheless long overdue for a picture of The Barack. Can you believe it's been almost a year since I was posting photos of him every day? I miss the mass emotional upheaval of presidential campaign season.

cookies.

I'm shrinking. It's been unavoidable- the stress of moving, a sudden drop in beer consumption, the only two proximal grocery stores being Whole Foods and Trader Joe's (goodbye Oreos, Pringles, and Breyers Ice Cream, hello organic vegetables), and of course, all this biking. It's gotten to the point at the present rate that I'm going to get bumped down a smaller jeans size, and since I can't handle the trauma of jeans shopping (and being hungry all the time), I have decided that I'm going to bake more regularly. As I already eat a ton of butter and full fat dairy, cookies feel like my only hope.

Interestingly, the unintentional movetoPhillyandwasteaway weight loss moment coincided with the reappearance of the recipe notebook.

I'd lost it after moving from one of my eleven addresses in five years but had given up on seeing it again. Until I randomly ran into a former housemate and he said,"Hey, this isn't my ex-wife's, could it be yours?" and alas, I was reunited was this messy chunk of dreams from a time in my life that I thought my baking skills were going to be my ticket into eternally wedded bliss and a life of deriving spiritual pleasure from cleaning my windows.

Which is all to say, I have this amazing sugar cookie recipe that I would like to share with you. I got it off of Allrecipes.com a million years ago, but it's been modified a little. These are dense little cookies that, in spite of recalling several unrequited loves and the sorrows of one too many singles dances, take the edge off and, combined with that multi-egg fried egg sandwich I just ate, will keep the pants fitting for just a little while longer.

Perfect Sugar Cookies

1 1/2 cups butter (3 sticks)

2 cups white sugar

4 eggs

1 teaspoon (maybe a lil' more) almond extract (vanilla works if that's all you have, but almond will take you to the next dimension) (amaretto would be a dream, but I haven't tried it)

5 cups flour

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp (or less) salt

1. Cream butter and sugar with your mixer. Add eggs and almond extract.

2. Add in flour, baking powder, and salt gradually. This dough gets pretty dense.

3. Cover and refrigerate for 1 hour or more.

4. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.

5. Roll dough out however you like. This may involve cookie cutters or you can be life me and just use an ice cream scoop to make balls. At this point, I recommend baking 10 and freezing the rest so you can have fresh cookies whenever you want.

6. Depending on your oven, bake 6-10 minutes. Cool, and, if you really want him to marry you, frost.

Frosting

When baking 10 cookies at a time, I quarter this recipe.

4 cups powdered sugar

1/2 butter

5 tbsp milk

1 tsp of whatever kind of extract you used in the cookies

A drop or two of food coloring (I prefer using red or yellow)

Mix it all up.

come to mommy.

So I mentioned the other day that my doorway and stair madness had me thinking about getting a little sister for the Old Dutch Treat. Well, today I cracked. Performance, who already has the Dahon D3 (in Pink!) for sale at a very reasonable price, is running a 12 hour 20% off sale today.

I had a lovely time doing bike errands on the ODT yesterday, but getting it up the stairs did brutal things to the neck and back. I need my neck and back, and the D3 has gotten great reviews from a reputable blogger, and hey-- I did sell my car. So there's not a whole lotta guilt there. The ODT will still be my go-to bike for longer excursions, heavier loads, and Sunday pleasure rides / spiritual realignments, but I'm excited to have the Dahon for everyday quick trips and traveling. Isn't it cute? Expect a review as soon as it arrives.

ADDENDUM: Now that I'm going to own a folding bike, I get to be a proponent of links like "How Many Folding Bikes Does It Take to Fill a Parking Space?" (hat tip to Let's Go Ride a Bike).

is it getting hot in here or is it just me.

It's almost that time of the year again! Yay for Mad Men!



I'm just glad I'll have something to fill the tv-sized hole in my heart left by the BBC. It's hard to see how I'll live without Inside Nature's Giants, Casualty, and Eastenders*. Maybe I'll start a PhD program so I'll have something to do...

*can somebody tell me if the BBC player works outside the UK? I have a feeling the Christian & Said plotline won't be resolved on Eastenders before I leave! If it does work, though, you can watch the whole season of Casualty before the finale next Sunday! It is so good!