My Two New Food Projects

Next week I start my second vegan cleanse, this time following an official vegan workshop hosted by Beauty That Moves (it's not too late to join us).

There's only one challenge: I've recently started a diet--not a "lifestyle" but an honest-to-goodness diet with rules and limitations--that provides most of my food for me in prepackaged astronaut-like containers.

Yes, I know. It's not natural. It's not local. It's not organic. It's not seasonal. It's everything I don't like in food. It's not really even real food. Though, it is vegetarian.

But I need to lose weight for my back and that has been absolutely compromised by my complete inability to really cook. So this is a temporary approach to a longer term project, a way to lose half my weight (not what I weigh, but what I need to lose) or so as easily as I can, while protecting my back and saving my energy for my kids.

I will still make their food, mostly in the crockpot or on the stove since I can't get things in and out of the oven, and we still make all of our own fruits and vegetables.

So, for the vegan workshop, I'll be making non-dairy choices when possible and making delicious vegetable dishes to supplement. I'm hoping it's the best of both worlds, at least until I can get back to cooking and real food and a lower weight.

How To Ruin a Beautiful Sunny Day in One Word

Homework.

Even before I had kids, I would see the district homework package in the library and be disgusted. Who makes kids do summer homework? I never had summer homework, nor did Mama, and we both did just fine. I've read articles and studies that say that homework doesn't really affect the so-called "summer learning loss." Parents that encourage, cajole, no--force--their kids to do it are the same ones providing stimulating, even educational summers that result in less loss anyway. The ones who don't, aren't, and tend to have kids that lose a month of learning. Of course, these lines often fall along class lines (though, apparently, everyone loses math skills). So, at best, I'm indifferent to summer homework; at most, I'm actually hostile to it, believing it to infringe on summer "recess." And I'm not alone in being torn.

We've been putting it off all summer. Instead, the kiddos have gone to science museums and aquariums, written and illustrated books, played Star Wars and fairyland and Robin Hood, built forts and hideouts, baked cakes and made meatloaf, played on scooters and learned to ride bicycles, played with their grandparents and their neighbors, gone to camp and the beach and the park, had restaurant meals and ice cream and picnics outside, gone swimming and slip-n-sliding, danced to their favorite music and sung around the campfire, played board games and card games and pool games and yard games, and read and been read to almost everyday.

But they hadn't done their homework. Until this morning, when we sat down to write two short book reports on books they had read themselves. (Mind you, at their age, I don't think I could even read, much less write full sentences. I was wasting time playing instead.).

Flashback to a year's worth of weekly assignments, with whining and frustration, giving up and giving in. "Do we have to do both pages?" Bud wondered. Sis ended up in tears. They don't want summer to end. They don't want school to start. I'm not sure I do either, at least from a homework front. I think I dread that part of it as much as they do, especially because I'm the one who has to make them do it (until they're old enough to be responsible for it themselves--so maybe, shouldn't schools only assign homework when that's the case?)

And so we finished up as quickly as we could and then headed outside for a game of Robin Hood and a feast of fresh nectarines and cold cherries, later baking a cake with a layer of chocolate kisses and marshmallows in the middle for extra fun. There's time enough for homework in the nine months, and 12+ years to come.

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Lib!

The kids love'em.

And if I stretch, I can consider Mad Libs educational--now they sorta know what nouns, adjectives, verbs, and adverbs are!

Here's my favorite one so far, from a Star Wars Mad Lib:

Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to (verb ending in -ing).

We came up with:

Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to tooting.

We've laughed for two days!

A New Category

I realized yesterday at my gynecologist appointment that I've entered into a new category: I'm extremely interesting to doctors. My gyn asked questions and took notes for 45 minutes, considering tests and treatments for my cramps but didn't want to examine me because, TMI, it would be too close to my spine. With each new detail, she got a look that bespoke both curiosity and awe, like "Wow, you have A, B, and C?!?!"

My podiatrist did the same thing. He saw dollar signs as he heard about all my muscoskeletal issues, even though I was only there for some, TMI, anti-fungal toe polish. He even followed me into the receptionist area to ask me again about my back, my doctors, and my treatment options. Though, clearly, none of them involved my feet.

Even my neurosurgeon was interested and perplexed. He did all these physical diagnostic tests but was surprised by the ease with which I could perform all of them, all of them but sitting down. "Did you fracture your tailbone?" he hypothesized, obviously stumped. Of course, the MRI showed it was just my disc. His treatment suggestions were just best guesses in the it-couldn't-hurt category.

While being such a fascinating case to a variety of doctors has its obvious downside, namely the physical problems that defy routine treatment, there is an upside, I've discovered: the doctors stay longer, listen more, even think harder. In other words, they are paying closer attention to me than they did before. And that's a good thing in a doctor . . . especially when you've got all these variables.

Be Your Most Courageous Self

Diana Nyad did not complete her swim from Cuba to Key West. Shoulder pain, asthma, vomiting, currents pushing her off course all contributed to the end of her swim about halfway.

But she did complete one of her goals: to inspire others.

Nyad was quoted in the NYTimes as saying, "Life goes by so quickly and, at my age, you really feel the passage of time. . . . People my age must try to live vital, energetic lives. We’re still young. We’re not our mothers’ generation at 60.”

She encourages people “to live a life with no regrets and no worries about what you are going to do with your time. Fill it with passion. Be your best self."

"I was my most courageous self," she said. And in being so, even though her fairy tale didn't have a happy ending, she inspires me.

Lessons in a Hospital Gown

On the day of my MRI, I came out of the tunnel in my lovely little hospital gown and saw a man in the exact same gown sitting in the waiting room fiddling on his Blackberry, a businessman stripped of his suit of armor. At first, I thought how odd, how humiliating, even how dehumanizing hospital gowns were. Then it struck me: hospital gowns are completely human.

Because being human is a messy, scary, awkward, difficult, painful business sometimes.

My friend's two children with lifelong health challenges. My ill aunt. My two friends whose parents have cancer. My friend who recently lost a mom to cancer. Many of my friends' efforts to help their children on the autism spectrum. My friends and family with unemployed spouses. My back pain. My friend's migraines. Some of our weight challenges. My neighbors' divorces.

I am coming to understand how natural all of this difficulty and suffering is, how much a part of life. In some ways it is comforting to know that my own challenges are normal, that in my struggles I am not alone, that I am one with the sea of humanity. Of course, I would like to wish for all of the above and so much more to end well, but there will always be such suffering. Not being a believer in an omniscient, omnipotent, omni-benevolent higher power, I don't wonder about the problem of evil. I just think on ways to temper it as best I can.

Though, when I think beyond the troubles of my community to those far and wide--murders, famines, wars, riots, abuse, neglect, economic collapse, natural disaster, environmental destruction--I am frequently overwhelmed. I know such things have happened time out of mind, but it seems worse than illness or other natural events, perhaps because so much of it is human-made and thus seemingly preventable. And because so many people are affected.

Still, we are all human together. And that can be some comfort.

Mosey Mosaics

Yesterday, Sis and Bud spent lots of time decorating paper butterfly cutouts with tiny, shiny stickers, all from a kit. We talked about how it was a mosaic, and so they kept saying they were "mosai-ing," as in "to mosai." Funny how they make up perfectly regular verbs that don't exist (you know, like Junie B. Jones and "stealed" or "runned." It's actually grammatically correct, but the English language isn't.)

We talked about mosaics, how they are made of tesserae and used to decorate floors or walls or even ceilings. I even showed them a bit of mosaic I have, a fragment with red, blue, and white tesserae. They were completely nonplussed and much more interested in their stickered ones, which now adorn our mantle.

And She's Off

Diana Nyad, 61, began her 103 mile open-water swim from Cuba to Florida today. Mama Hungry is entranced by her story, which you can follow along here. Good luck, Xtreme Dream! You're an inspiration.

Regarding Broadway

We're going on vacation!! Just like millions of other people each year, we're heading to NYC. And we don't have to pay airfare, only gas (though CT has the highest in the nation right now). After trying to determine the best getaway, including transportation and activities, we opted for a). close and b). familiar and c). short. What better than my old Times Square neighborhood? Okay, we won't be seeing a show because the kids are too young and I can't sit. But we are actually spending one night in a hotel there, something I've only done twice before (at the Waldorf with Gommie and Aunt Banana when they visited during the Blizzard of '96 and at the Algonquin with Mama on the night of the blackout '03, fortunately). It's going to be such fun and we are so excited just to walk around, see the sights and lights, eat, be there, even if we don't do anything.

So, in the spirit of things, we made a music playlist of all our favorite songs from Broadway musicals. With classics and new songs, it runs to 8 hours! It was fun to remember all the fabulous shows we've seen separately and together and to laugh at some of the real duds (oh, Brits doing Louisiana accents in Whistle Down the Wind. Simply awful for all sorts of reasons). When I was young, Pop always sang "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" and other songs from Oklahoma! and I spent most of my first two decades listening to his Broadway LPs. Gommie took me to 4-5 musicals a year starting when I was about 7, when the national touring companies came to Houston (speaking of duds: Paint Your Wagon was the worst, with the understudy carrying the script on stage and the cast having to skip whole numbers!). Similarly, Mama Hungry went to musicals with her folks and on school field trips (lucky dog!), in addition to watching several of the movies. (More on details of our romance with musicals here.)

Wanting to instill a similar love of Broadway in Sis and Bud, we started playing our playlist this morning, singing along and telling the stories. Of course, like this 24-hour vacation to Times Square, it's as much for us as for them. . . .

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Musicals I've Seen, sorta in order (national touring companies, in Texas mostly in the 70s and 80s, unless otherwise noted)

*ones Mama has also seen (and all the ones she saw were on Broadway, usually with original cast)

**ones we've seen together

On a Clear Day You Can See Forever (with Robert Goulet, my first musical)

Camelot

Oklahoma!

My Fair Lady

Annie*

A Little Night Music

The King and I (with Yul Brynner)

Fiddler on the Roof*

Man of La Mancha

Gigi

Baby

Grease** (in Texas and later on Broadway with "Xena" aka Lucy Lawless!)

South Pacific

Pirates of Penzance

Showboat

Music Man

Chorus Line

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

42nd Street

Brigadoon

Paint Your Wagon

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (in Houston with David Cassidy and on Broadway with Donnie Osmond)

Starlight Express

Jesus Christ, Superstar

Evita

Cats

Phantom of the Opera (the first time in London)*

Aspects of Love

Sunset Boulevard (with Glenn Close on Broadway)

Whistle Down the Wind** (also in London)

Bombay Dreams (on Broadway, with chef/actress Madhur Jaffrey)

Les Miserables* (Broadway; Mama saw it several times, including in French in Montreal!)

Miss Saigon* (Broadway; Mama saw Lea Salonga)

Into the Woods

Cyrano the Musical (Broadway)

Smokey Joe's Cafe (Broadway)

Passion (on Broadway with Donna Murphy)

Guys and Dolls (Broadway)

Beauty and the Beast (Broadway)

1776 (Broadway)

Secret Garden* (Mama saw Daisy Egan)

Gypsy* (with Tyne Daly)

Ragtime** (Broadway)

Titanic (Broadway)

Rent** (Broadway)

Jane Eyre** (Broadway)

Big River** (Broadway)

The Lion King** (Broadway)

Yes, you'll notice glaring omissions, especially recently because of practicalities, such as Wicked, and most comedies (Producers, Spamalot, How To Succeed . . ., A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum . . . ) because I don't usually like them. And then just some I missed, like Chicago and Cabaret and West Side Story.

Shows Mama Has Seen That I Haven't

Barnum

Jerome Robbins's Broadway

Under the Basement Stairs

Our kiddos have a new favorite story: The Secrets of Droon. Recommended by Babysitter from her own childhood, the 40-book series follows three "Upper World" friends on their adventures in Middle-Earth-like Droon, the portal to which is in the basement. We've read and listened on CD to six of the books, which have also been recreated in Legos and acted out in dramatic play. Sis is, of course, the heroine Princess Keeah and Bud likes to be the wizard Galen Longbeard. I'm always the mom, once a cursed white falcon, named Queen Relna. I haven't followed all the books--I read the first two but Gommie and Pop heard the others in the car--and so am confused by Ninns and Groggles and evil Lord Spaar and the hidden entrance to the castle in the volcano. But, if you know Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, you can extrapolate and get along fine. Which is good because I'm not sure I can keep up for 34 more books!

WhichCraft

Now that I can walk for periods up to almost 3 hours, with a few minor breaks (about once an hour; more as the time goes on), we've started to take little local outings (and yes, I lie down in the backseat to go to and fro).

And twice this weekend that meant the craft store. Yesterday we did the bookstore and the craft store. But walking around all those glorious supplies--fabric, cake pans, yarn, stamp pads, DMC floss--made me yearn for my crafting days. I've dabbled in a lot of things--cross stitch, quilting, cake decorating, watercolor, stamping, crocheting, and knitting--and like to make things. But being bound to walking or lying down (I can't stand in one place very long either) has really limited my activities to reading and computers. I ignore the yearning to create on most days (or finagle people to help me, like with baking) but felt the pull intensely in the store yesterday. As it happens, I picked up a small book on redwork, the red-floss embroidery, and was taken with the little projects. Perhaps I could embroider? The kinds of projects I would do take a lot fewer stitches than cross stitch, could be done in brief standings or lying down, and could be used to make all sorts of cute little gifts for people.

As I sat with the idea overnight, I realized what I could do first to test my plan: tooth fairy pillows! Sis has lost two teeth and now Bud has a loose top front right. Which means we have 38 more visits from the tooth fairy coming. And so I decided to make little felt pillows with their names and a simple design--bunny and penguin outlines--on the pocket, all done mostly in chain stitch or back stitch, the two I know best (besides, cross stitch wouldn't look quite right).

So today, after the grocery store run, we went back to the craft store. This time, I was elated, picking up floss, needles, fabric pencil, fabric. It felt exhilarating. As I checked out--all by myself, as Mama had taken the kids to the next store over--I saw one of those reusable bags that companies sell at the cash register. This one said "Create. Craft. Conserve." I liked the sentiment.

But I would amend it slightly: "Create. Craft. Contribute."

Games Grandparents Play

I don't remember Pop every playing games when I was a kid. Organized games, that is; he'd play "the old gray horse" or "alligator gets the baby" and the like. But last night, he played charades with all of us. By the end, the kids were doing all the animals, flopping all over regardless of the animal--and you know it's hard when you can't tell a hippo from a bear--except the hoppers, which all seemed a lot like frogs, even if they were bunnies or kangaroos. I got all the objects, which could be performed from my spot on the couch. Of course, we've played charades so much that the kids know all the words. Which does make acting out or guessing "knitting" and such easier. Sometimes it feels like charades on speed . . . .

Gommie's also played all manner of card game, including something called "kings in the corner," their favorite "P-I-G," Slap Jack, Old Maid, etc. They've also played Operation, Connect Four, Qwirkle. And outside, there's been the Ladder Ball game Gommie brought, which was dangerous at first with those hard balls flying around the yard, but Sis particularly got pretty good. And then, not long before Gommie and Pop left, there was a boisterous game of Hide and Seek, with the kids moving around instead of staying in one place as Gommie circle the house.

We'll keep playing games now that Gommie and Pop are gone, but it's just not quite as much fun without them . . . .

Out and About

While I'm at home doing my self-study outdoor training for taking Girl Scouts on outings, the kids are actually outdoors with Gommie and Pop. They went to a park and then were headed to the beach. Pop loves the outdoors and was looking forward to exploring with them. Sis got a lot of that at Girl Scout camp and is ready to share her knowledge--where to look for ticks (ears, armpits, socks), how to identify poison ivy ("if it's three, let it be"), how to build an a-frame fire. She did earn an outdoor patch after all. Bud, who did Lego camp, was very excited at doing the outdoor thing. Meanwhile, I'm the armchair traveler, learning to recognize deer ticks, clean latrines, plan meals for a whole troop, and lead hikes on themes like colors or the alphabet. Can't wait til we can all do it together (well, except maybe the latrine part).

No Surgery

The surgeon called tonight and he doesn't recommend surgery because believe it or not the tear and herniation are small and not obviously pressing on any nerves, my back actually looks pretty healthy for my age, and finally surgery just wouldn't help. That's the good news and the bad news because it means a). yay! no surgery and b). there's no solution other than pretty much what we're doing, which is slow and seemingly ineffective. He recommends another steroid injection, some PT, working on my weight loss, and time. So, pretty much like the my favorite physiatrist. I'm relieved and frustrated. But it could be so much worse. I'll just keep going, probably get the injections and PT, and maybe see about finding someone who can regularly drive us places until I can so that I can get out and about which really helps my spirits.

Dancing Queens and Kings

The soundtrack for my day began in the MRI tunnel because the swanky place I had the test today had Sirius Radio piped in. When asked about my favorite music, I stammered . . . until Mama Hungry said, "She likes 'Glee.'" So I got pop. And it was perfect. First came Taio Cruz singing, "Dynamite," a song which Mama knew from the kids and had just introduced me to (via, oddly enough, a version by the "Maccabeats" about Hanukkah). Then came Adele singing "Rolling in the Deep," which I know from its "Glee" version. Finally, "Born this Way." The ultimate anthem. Almost brought tears to my eyes thinking about the kids, wanting this back thing to be over, glad it was me going through medical challenges and not them. Mind you, it's hard to stay perfectly still if you're crying. So I tried really hard not to get all touched, but just to enjoy the distraction.

Later this afternoon, we had a family dance party, with the kids pulling out their iPod and deftly selecting our tunes. First, we did have "Dynamite," to which Sis could sing most of the words while joyfully dancing around. Then in quick succession "Born this Way," "When I Get You Alone," "Don't Stop Believin'," "Dancin' Queen," "Rose's Turn" (okay, so that Broadway tune of Sis's choosing was the odd one out), and, of course, "Born this Way." And I was amazed that Pop identified Lady Gaga! He had even heard of Amy Winehouse. Rock on, Pop! But then, the 45s of "Peggy Sue" and "Kisses Sweeter than Wine" and "Everybody's Gonna Have a Wonderful Time Up There" that I have were his, which he told me tonight he played on a hi-fi system from his Uncle Mac (who, like a few other of Dad's relatives--including Aunt Willie and Donald W.--played for "my" team, so to speak. We're everywhere. Especially on that side of the family.)

Tonight, Mama put "Dynamite" as well as "Glee's" version of "Friday"--the kids' most requested song--on our iPod, as well as some Sugarland. Just in case we have another dance party tomorrow.

Breathe in Peace, Breathe Out Love

Sending some of both to

• Mama Teacher, who had a rough weekend, with a flooded basement and a dead fish (those are separate, though);
• a friend, whose daughter has been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.

This Way and That

We were all back and forth across the I-95 corridor today. First, I had my MRI in Greenwich, which went as well as those things go (the tech said she got a good image, though). Then back to town for my historical house curriculum meeting. Meanwhile Mama headed to work. And the kids, Gommie, and Pop headed to the aquarium to see the stingrays and sharks. By midday, we'd all put in several hours and many miles! Which is why we're kinda having a lazy, hot summer afternoon.

Cookin' Out

After swimming yesterday, we cooked out in the backyard. Pop manned the grill, mainly pizza and chicken, while Mama and I made blueberry cobbler. Gommie and the kids played baseball, ladder ball, and other yard games.

Later, before all the food was done and as the kids sank with the sun, we sat out singing songs, all our family's repertoire (*list below). We like to sing and Mom and Dad can even sometimes harmonize. It was fun to hear all the family standards and to have the kids add their own. Though, they were almost too tired to sing. We barely got them in bed before their faces hit their plates.

But back to the cobbler: it was the best cobbler I've ever made. In fact, it's right up there with the cobbler of Mel's Country Cafe in Tomball, the best I've ever had. Only the homemade one, from a Cook's Country recipe had lemon zest, which made it a little more fancy-tasting than Mel's. And Mel's has a lot more butter. Still, I've always wanted to make a good cobbler--not the Deep South's particular biscuit-topped variety, but Texas's own "Don't Stir It" almost gooey cake-based/topped (the batter rises through the fruit) kind.

Mmm, mmmm, good.

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Family Song List

Mom and Dad's Repertoire: "Dixie," "Deep in the Heart of Texas," "Eyes of Texas," "Roll Out the Barrel," "Darktown Strutter's Ball," "Home on the Range," "Sidewalks of New York," "Bicycle Built for Two," "Barrel of Money," "Tell Me Why," "Down By the Old Mill Stream," "Let's Go Fly A Kite," "Supercalifragilistic," "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning," "Kansas City,"

Mommy Hungry: "Buffalo Song," "Summertime," "Can't Help Loving That Man of Mine," "How many colors are in the rainbow?", "Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose," "Noah's Ark"

Bud and Sis: "Skidamarinky Doo," "Daisy Smile," "Taps," "Make New Friends," "Silliest Song in the World" ("ain't gonna rain no more"), "Shoofly," "Row, Row, Row Your Boat,"

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Blueberry Cobbler

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces, and 8 tablespoons of butter, melted and cooled

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons lemon zest

3 cups blueberries, rinsed

1 1/2 cups flour

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 cups milk

Melt and cool 8 tablespoons of butter in 9x13 pan while you preheat oven tto 350.

Meanwhile, pulse 1/4 cup sugar and lemon zest and set aside until the end.

Mash blueberries with 1 tablespoon of lemon sugar.

Mix 1 1/4 cups sugar, flower, baking powder, and salt. Whisk in milk and cooled melted butter. Pour batter in hot pan. Dollop blueberry mixture over dough. Sprinkle with remaining lemon sugar.

Bake 45-50 minutes, turning pan halfway, until golden and bubbly. Cool 30 minutes.

Cook's Country (with instructions written by Mommy Hungry)

Pool, Pool Party

. . . it was a cool party!

Okay, no Aquabats today.

But we did have aqua-kids yesterday. They went to Gommie and Pop's hotel pool and had a blast splashing around and playing all those water games, like Marco Polo and Toothpaste. Gommie and Pop got a kick out of the fact that one of the categories chosen for Toothpaste was "favorite museums!" Sis choose Peabody and Bud "dinosaur museum." They also like favorite bird, tree, color, food, and animal.

I got in the water a bit, too, having been told repeatedly how wonderful it is for lower back pain. It wasn't. Not only was being in the water uncomfortable, but getting out was awful. Won't be doing that again. And grateful for the MRI tomorrow. But I did enjoy watching the kids swim so comfortably and play with Gommie and Pop.

Bicycles Built for Two

We spent the morning at the local bike shop because the kids got their first bicycles today, a birthday present from Gommie and Pop. After measuring, discussing, consulting with the cycling expert at the shop, we selected a pink bike with white tires (and a little purse/basket) for Sis and a blue bike with black tires (and also hand brakes) for Bud. Plus two new helmets (unfortunately, the new novelty helmets with rabbit ears and shark teeth weren't really protecting against front impacts, the main source of bicycle injury), also pinkish and blue-ish. Of course.

Along with our purchase, we got a little "Zen and the Art of Bicycling," some philosophical advice on life. A helmet is very important to save your life but elbow and knee pads incubate you from life's lessons--it's important to skin your knees and get right back up on the saddle seat. He was wonderful, spending a lot of time with us as his shop got busier and busier.

Sis and Bud waited as patiently as they could, considering how excited and proud they were. The nice bike shopped rushed the construction of the pink bike so Sis didn't have to wait all day or even til tomorrow; we were grateful, especially because Bud's bike was ready. Soon they had those shiny new bikes and were riding up and down the sidewalk with Gommie and Pop, testing those wobbly training wheels on their new two-wheelers. You could see the concentration and effort on their faces as they seriously rode up and down. At home, they rode back and forth, trying turns and stops (both also have coaster brakes). Sis was speedy--I think she loves speed, on her tricycle, her scooter, and now her bicycle. There was one small flip but Bud got right back up on his bicycle, ignoring his skinned knee. Just like we hoped he would.

During the whole morning, we reminisced about our own bikes. Pop had hand-me-downs from his siblings, repainted for him, only getting his own new bike when I was probably about 10. I remember our going with him to the bike shop to get the big new blue bicycle and then he shocked me by riding it all the way home, down the backroads of the various neighborhoods. I think he had a wonderful time. I believe my first bike came for Christmas and, it being warm enough with no ice or snow, I rode it up and down our cul-de-sac so happy about the plastic white-woven basket with three big flowers and not minding the training wheels at all. I was probably about 6 or 7, can't be sure. I had a different bike, a blue Schwinn, with huge book basket rack on the back, that I rode to school from 5-9th grades (with Gommie following me the first time or two so I didn't get lost). Mama remembered especially the adult bike she bought in

Chicago, from the dyke-owned shop. She rode a lot around the city those first few years, excited by the freedom. She went back to the shop several times, enjoying the atmosphere and buying accessories. I think she was nostalgic for those days, and for the days riding through the parks of Queens with her dad, and hopes we become a biking family. I actually have an adult bike, purchased at the same shop several years ago but left unused because I found riding hard--after three years of physical therapy and learning about my body, I know why now it was challenging and why it will be hard to take up again. But I can participate in family rides in other ways and think it would be great fun for us all. I hope the kids remember today and subsequent bicycle days with the same happiness and fondness.

Happy Birthday, Sis and Bud!