Day, let’s see, day twelve with my grandparents on my stint here in Texas. Perhaps I inadvertently sensed my stay’s midpoint and chose to retrospect (and anticipate) on the visit.
Christmas came and went in literary buildup/climax/resolution fashion. Aided by music from Kenny Rogers, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and a gaggle of easy listening giants, we partook in the standard modern American traditions of food and festivities.
Two nights before Christmas, on the eve of Christmas Eve, I flexed my culinary muscles and gifted my grandparents with an eclectic home-cooked meal. Baked salmon- soy, honey, and fresh ginger marinade; roasted root vegetables- turnips, parsnips, carrots and baby red potatoes in rosemary and thyme olive oil; and rice- coconut curried Jasmine grains with raisins. Sounds fancy, but anyone that reads this whom I have cooked for knows these are tried-and-true classics in Calvin’s repertoire. I only wished for acceptance from my grandparents’ palates. Thankfully they enjoyed all three items. I could not have asked for more!
I spent Christmas Eve on the telephone with family and friends and trying my hand at Rummikub with grandma and grandpa. My grandparents are both ex-NASA employees and thus veritable machines at all math-based games. Rummy may not seem too challenging mathematically, but keen arithmetic combined with rapid logical skills makes my grandparents stone-faced assassins of the card table.
My grandmother Milly retaliated with her culinary expertise on Christmas day by baking foods that I, as a relatively inexperienced and unmarried college student, have never tackled. Turkey, cranberry sauce, corn-pudding, herbed stuffing, and sweet potatoes blanketed the table to create a traditional yet Southern feast. We all ate well and are still reaping the leftovers at least once a day.
Holding true to our habit of traveling into Crockett nearly every day, we’ve made the twelve-mile drive five times in the past week. From groceries, to movies, to more groceries and hair appointments there is always a reason to hop in the truck. I say hop, though of course I mean gimp up to the door, throw my crutches in the backseat, and hoist myself up into the cab.
The injury is going quite well. Actually, if not for the memory of the X-rayed fracture I would assume nothing is wrong. I began exercising in earnest five days ago with Pilates and stretching exercises, then via doctor/physical therapist recommendations began pedaling on the stationary recumbent bicycle in the living room. How sweet it was to crack a sweat again, even if it took wearing a beanie and Polartec top while sitting near the fire! Over the subsequent days I have upped the resistance and duration and now am nearly at full time and exertion. Riding places less load on my fracture than standing; I feel no pain.
Funny, though I know that I have progressed so much in regards to self-esteem and personal identity, I still place a lot of emotional health on exercising daily. Now, however, the zeal seems less aesthetic and more chemical, I simply feel better if I get in some aerobic activity. Is that healthy or not? I believe that it’s OK to need to feel driven, and if I’m unchallenged in other aspects I fall to exercising for relief. Heck, there are worse vices and coping mechanisms in the world, and I feel like my motivations are sound.
Tomorrow we head off to Houston for a slew of touristy events; I’ll be certain to write afterwards. Today I’m pre-cooking some homemade meatballs for a dinner with family on Thursday… feeding four children and five adults is something new to me so I need luck on my side.
Calvin
PS, In divine timing, I finished reading Anna Karenina on Christmas morning. The Tolstoy novel concludes on a rather spiritual note, in which Levin realizes that his own over analysis and scientism stood in the way of a relationship with God. He always had the answers but was mired in the wrong questions. It was a good way to start Christmas day.
12.28.2004
12.21.2004
Zee Humans
“Yah, zee humane body is a strange thing. We fall off dee building, we are fine. Zen, we eat cooked speenach and chip zee tooth.�
-Gwenyth
I agree, Gwenyth. En route to Houston aboard SWA flight 679, thanks to a plane change in Las Vegas Nevada, I met German-born-turned-Vegas-high-roller Gwyneth. Even seated one could see she failed to stand more than five feet tall, and her attire and various souvenir knick-knacks revealed she often traveled internationally. As an awarded micro-biologist employed by the government (tiz top seecret, I can not reeveel), the conversation should have revolved around her work and lifestyle; but my circumstances fueled the dialogue.
I have a brace on; full leg, yes, but bendable at the knee and compact enough to fit between airplane ‘seats’. On Wednesday December 15, T-minus 42 hours till departure for Texas, a car hit me: pedaling home from the university around two p.m., a car shot out of a parking lot and side-swiped me into traffic. The irony is almost too great! Read Twisted Metal written on December 8 where I describe a horrific cycling accident and the human spirit revealed in such a situation.
This scenario failed to rekindle my trust in the human species. I picked myself up off the road and stepped down onto a sloppy left knee, immediately indicative of torn ligaments or a fractured lower leg. Hopping, then, on my right leg onto a nearby patch of grass, I looked over at the mid-thirties female driver, dressed in scrubs and apparently commuting to/from work, expecting her to get out and frantically offer help. Instead, in true “the world is lost and our species are egotistical ass-wipes fashion�, she lit her cigarette and stared blankly ahead of her. I, clutching my leg, began refocusing on the scene around me: my bike in the middle of the road, cars returning to speed and honking at each other in late-for-work frustration, and the sound of sirens already approaching.
Someone called it in, apparently, but it was not the driver. Only after an onlooker pulled my Redline out of the road, after someone pushed a cell-phone to my ear to call anyone of relation or acquaintance, did she exit the vehicle (Kia, silver, crappy) and strike up a conversation. “You have cell phone, you have?�…. Great. Any and every anti-white-bread-American fiber inside me inflamed at her obviously foreign accent. The police showed, took a report, plopped me in the ambulance and shuttled off to the ER.
To make a long story short, three hours at the ER with Lauren and her mother revealed a Tibial Plateau fracture, non-displaced, on the outside of my left knee. No torn ACL, no surgery required, and little internal bleeding. Shattered femurs sometimes turn fatal and internal bone shrapnel requires hours of surgery to fish out… I am lucky. Lauren and her mother, Mary, helped pass the time and replace some of my disillusion with mankind: we tried desperately to keep the mood light and the topics varied, and Lauren gently massaged my feelings about the impending Christmas/Training venture in Texas. She knew the potentially negative precipice my mind was balanced upon, though between her, Mary and a moderate dose of Vicadin I staved the depression.
First off, I did not even consider canceling my trip to Texas. If anything the distance from my bicycle facilitates being crutch-bound. I still fully subscribe to the idea “things happen for a reason�, so maybe I was meant to catch more fish, read more books, and of course spend more time with my family here in the South.
It is still a jagged pill to swallow, primarily since I have witnessed a phenomenal build-up of fitness in anticipation of three weeks pedaling in 68-degree Texas “winter� sunshine. To my left, through the large bay-windows overlooking Houston County Lake, the sun’s glare reflects off glassy-smooth water, dissecting itself through dense Oak leaves before invading my retina. Curse this beautiful weather with its summer breezes, pinched Fall-like sunshine, and cornucopia of rich, moist, living scents.
So here I am. Surely I would enjoy two weeks away from home and visiting family, though I fear that three weeks without diversion might push it. I may be happy that third week, but I do not want my grandparents fearing my boredom… I suppose that the “Calvinisms� in me try and always will try to make everyone happy. Thanks for reading. Wish me luck in healing; I view this as a great opportunity for my health and lifestyle to reveal itself through unprecedented recovery.
Regards-
Calvino
-Gwenyth
I agree, Gwenyth. En route to Houston aboard SWA flight 679, thanks to a plane change in Las Vegas Nevada, I met German-born-turned-Vegas-high-roller Gwyneth. Even seated one could see she failed to stand more than five feet tall, and her attire and various souvenir knick-knacks revealed she often traveled internationally. As an awarded micro-biologist employed by the government (tiz top seecret, I can not reeveel), the conversation should have revolved around her work and lifestyle; but my circumstances fueled the dialogue.
I have a brace on; full leg, yes, but bendable at the knee and compact enough to fit between airplane ‘seats’. On Wednesday December 15, T-minus 42 hours till departure for Texas, a car hit me: pedaling home from the university around two p.m., a car shot out of a parking lot and side-swiped me into traffic. The irony is almost too great! Read Twisted Metal written on December 8 where I describe a horrific cycling accident and the human spirit revealed in such a situation.
This scenario failed to rekindle my trust in the human species. I picked myself up off the road and stepped down onto a sloppy left knee, immediately indicative of torn ligaments or a fractured lower leg. Hopping, then, on my right leg onto a nearby patch of grass, I looked over at the mid-thirties female driver, dressed in scrubs and apparently commuting to/from work, expecting her to get out and frantically offer help. Instead, in true “the world is lost and our species are egotistical ass-wipes fashion�, she lit her cigarette and stared blankly ahead of her. I, clutching my leg, began refocusing on the scene around me: my bike in the middle of the road, cars returning to speed and honking at each other in late-for-work frustration, and the sound of sirens already approaching.
Someone called it in, apparently, but it was not the driver. Only after an onlooker pulled my Redline out of the road, after someone pushed a cell-phone to my ear to call anyone of relation or acquaintance, did she exit the vehicle (Kia, silver, crappy) and strike up a conversation. “You have cell phone, you have?�…. Great. Any and every anti-white-bread-American fiber inside me inflamed at her obviously foreign accent. The police showed, took a report, plopped me in the ambulance and shuttled off to the ER.
To make a long story short, three hours at the ER with Lauren and her mother revealed a Tibial Plateau fracture, non-displaced, on the outside of my left knee. No torn ACL, no surgery required, and little internal bleeding. Shattered femurs sometimes turn fatal and internal bone shrapnel requires hours of surgery to fish out… I am lucky. Lauren and her mother, Mary, helped pass the time and replace some of my disillusion with mankind: we tried desperately to keep the mood light and the topics varied, and Lauren gently massaged my feelings about the impending Christmas/Training venture in Texas. She knew the potentially negative precipice my mind was balanced upon, though between her, Mary and a moderate dose of Vicadin I staved the depression.
First off, I did not even consider canceling my trip to Texas. If anything the distance from my bicycle facilitates being crutch-bound. I still fully subscribe to the idea “things happen for a reason�, so maybe I was meant to catch more fish, read more books, and of course spend more time with my family here in the South.
It is still a jagged pill to swallow, primarily since I have witnessed a phenomenal build-up of fitness in anticipation of three weeks pedaling in 68-degree Texas “winter� sunshine. To my left, through the large bay-windows overlooking Houston County Lake, the sun’s glare reflects off glassy-smooth water, dissecting itself through dense Oak leaves before invading my retina. Curse this beautiful weather with its summer breezes, pinched Fall-like sunshine, and cornucopia of rich, moist, living scents.
So here I am. Surely I would enjoy two weeks away from home and visiting family, though I fear that three weeks without diversion might push it. I may be happy that third week, but I do not want my grandparents fearing my boredom… I suppose that the “Calvinisms� in me try and always will try to make everyone happy. Thanks for reading. Wish me luck in healing; I view this as a great opportunity for my health and lifestyle to reveal itself through unprecedented recovery.
Regards-
Calvino
12.08.2004
Twisted Mettle
The weather is crap today, super heavy rain with no chance of abating. I woke up and took Lauren to her subbing job and was thus granted access to a vehicle. Near the university, I saw a few cops lined up placing cones and waving people around what appeared to be a nasty accident. It was hard to see through the raindrops but I could see only one car involved... and one bicycle. I passed the black Cutlas and a few yards further passed a crumpled 1980's Peugeot road bike. Neither the driver nor the cyclist were to be seen.
I went into the nearby Jackson's to fuel up and grab some caffeinated sugar-water (they try to call it coffee) and asked the clerk if she knew the details of the accident. "Yeah," she says, "some idiot bike rider was in the middle of the lane wearing full black clothing and no lights." She chuckled. "Idiot didn't have any lights on, I don't feel bad for him a bit." Jaded low-life gas-selling chain-smoking yellow-toothed overweight goonie ape hooker. She has no clue, even if that guy was in the wrong, he was still someone and no one deserves that. I took my crap-coffee and bid her a good day.
The day has continued on this interesting streak. I completed and will display my acoustics design in, oh, five minutes. Quite the crunch-time scenario involving impossible-to-machine PVC pipe and burns from a hot glue gun. Plus, I got into a heated (yet frivolous) discussion with my roomies back home. Blah. More to come. I'm feeling vocal today but am out of time. Stay tuned.
I went into the nearby Jackson's to fuel up and grab some caffeinated sugar-water (they try to call it coffee) and asked the clerk if she knew the details of the accident. "Yeah," she says, "some idiot bike rider was in the middle of the lane wearing full black clothing and no lights." She chuckled. "Idiot didn't have any lights on, I don't feel bad for him a bit." Jaded low-life gas-selling chain-smoking yellow-toothed overweight goonie ape hooker. She has no clue, even if that guy was in the wrong, he was still someone and no one deserves that. I took my crap-coffee and bid her a good day.
The day has continued on this interesting streak. I completed and will display my acoustics design in, oh, five minutes. Quite the crunch-time scenario involving impossible-to-machine PVC pipe and burns from a hot glue gun. Plus, I got into a heated (yet frivolous) discussion with my roomies back home. Blah. More to come. I'm feeling vocal today but am out of time. Stay tuned.
12.06.2004
Monday mayhem
Ah, the beginning of another week. I am counting the days for the semester to end... not because school is a bear, but because I am anxiously awaiting my holiday vacation down in Texas. I leave December 17 and won't return for three weeks... lots of time to visit the g-parents and ride my bike in the Texas climate.
Overall I am feeling well, though I have caught myself being a bit irritable this past week. A combination of inadequate sleep, substantial training load, and end-of-semester engineering projects is pushing my mental envelop. Lauren and I managed to get out of town on Friday afternoon, which was a relief, but the respite was halted when I desired to return for training and schoolwork here in Boise. That of course created a minor rift in our romantic excursion, but we survived it and learned to appreciate the time.
I was thinking last night about my living situation, and am pleased that things are going well. Ironically, Drew recently gained acceptance into the University of Idaho and will begin school on January 12, 2005. I started adding up the days and realized I only have ten days left sharing a house with her and Lauren... I leave for Texas then she leaves for school before my return. When I get back Lauren and I will have the house together for another two weeks before we go our individual ways and move somewhere else. I am sad about the situation, I don't want things to change now! However, Lauren and I agree that living together (just her and I) would be possible but too 'marital' for now, so we will pursue other options: most likely I with Dave and Ron, she with ??? We will see how that all plays out.
For now I am off to lift, then ride, then sit in a lab and drill holes in a PVC pipe (silly acoustical design project, don't ask!). The weather is sunny despite local weathermen predictions and I get to pedal 'a fuera' (outside), sweet.
Overall I am feeling well, though I have caught myself being a bit irritable this past week. A combination of inadequate sleep, substantial training load, and end-of-semester engineering projects is pushing my mental envelop. Lauren and I managed to get out of town on Friday afternoon, which was a relief, but the respite was halted when I desired to return for training and schoolwork here in Boise. That of course created a minor rift in our romantic excursion, but we survived it and learned to appreciate the time.
I was thinking last night about my living situation, and am pleased that things are going well. Ironically, Drew recently gained acceptance into the University of Idaho and will begin school on January 12, 2005. I started adding up the days and realized I only have ten days left sharing a house with her and Lauren... I leave for Texas then she leaves for school before my return. When I get back Lauren and I will have the house together for another two weeks before we go our individual ways and move somewhere else. I am sad about the situation, I don't want things to change now! However, Lauren and I agree that living together (just her and I) would be possible but too 'marital' for now, so we will pursue other options: most likely I with Dave and Ron, she with ??? We will see how that all plays out.
For now I am off to lift, then ride, then sit in a lab and drill holes in a PVC pipe (silly acoustical design project, don't ask!). The weather is sunny despite local weathermen predictions and I get to pedal 'a fuera' (outside), sweet.
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