Author: magrilless

It’s my very first day as a bicycle commuter! Are you watching, Daddy?

This past weekend, after much research and conversation, I walked into our local bike shop, test drove some bicycles, and plunked down the cash for this Trek hybrid bike.*

And so this morning at 6:15 Bill packed me up on my bike to escort me the 8.5 miles to work. I’ve spent the past week poring over street maps and park district maps and greenway maps, and with a Bill-approved route,** we tootled our way past cows and through neighborhoods to get me to work. Yes, I was actually on time!

I’m taking things slow: only two days a week right now. I figure, since I’m in this for the long haul, I should do anything I can to ensure I enjoy it. This includes giving my bum time to recover between rides. I’ll let you know when I hit my next milestone of three times per week!

*A very very special thank you goes out to the mystery stranger who helped me load my bicycle in the car! You’re a super-hero to me, Mr. Muscley Man.
**Only one major street crossing without a 4-way stop or streetlight. Thumbs up on O’Mally Alley behind (what I thought might be) the sketchy apartment complex. No dirt road next to the pig farm, even though it would cut out about half a mile.

We had a very fruitful weekend. Literally. We started on Friday by picking mulberries in the backyard. 8 cups makes enough for one batch of jam. Check. 8 cups of mulberries. Mush em up; cook em down; pack em in; and voila:

Mulberry jam. Easy as . . . well, easy as jam.

Then on Sunday morning we went cherry picking at an organic farm a couple miles away. About 13 cups of tart red pie cherries. Half are in the freezer. The other half are in our tummies. Hey, cherry pie for dessert one night, cherry pie for breakfast the next morning, and you barely have any left!

I’d say this is a good start to the summer!

This weekend we were out in the garden doing some weeding and watering and harvesting. There were some clouds in the sky. “Maybe it might rain and we won’t have to use the hose.” There was some thunder. “Oh boy, thunder storms are exciting. Very romantic.” There was a stiff breeze. “The storm’s coming! Better get those fruits of our labor inside fast, before we get soaked!”

“Cccrraaccccckkkk kawhooooshsh”

Speaking of cupcakes, I seek advice. Whenever I make muffins or cupcakes, I have a problem with the bases. If I use the paper cups, the muffins end up sticking to them and the consumer ends up eating strips of cardboardy muffin cup. Or I grease the cups (sometimes grease and flour if there are bits that can stick, like blueberries or chocolate chips), and then the bases turn out way too dark — verge-of-burning dark — by the time the tops and insides are cooked just right. They’re never inedible; just never exactly like you hoped they’d taste. And, really, what’s more disappointing than a lackluster cupcake?

So, what am I doing that is preventing me from baking perfect muffins and cupcakes. Oven too hot? Over-beating the batter? Wrong kind of oil? Filling cups too full?

Help me!

Even though there was no birthday party, you better believe I still made the traditional confetti cupcakes with pink frosting (the birthday boy’s request — I swear). And it’s not a birthday without blowing out the candle and making a wish!