Pardon The Interruption...

My goodness blog readers, please pardon the interruption here. It's the second week of classes, but the level of chaos still distinctly feels like it's just been one long day of students, meetings and madness. Consider this a "getting you up to speed" post.

Well, Parker started his first day of preschool last week. He is quite enamored with his teachers, classmates and the new toys they have. In fact, he laments that he's only there from 8:15am-2:45pm, which by the way, I thought was quite a long day for him. When I go to pick him up, he assures me that I must have better things to do and requests that I kindly come back and pick him up when it's dark. So thoughtful of the little booger.

He's also still sleeping through the night with sweet Nona for company. We do have our nights (like last night) where he has an accident and wakes up cold, wet and upset, but thankfully those are few and far between. It's made a world of difference to my own sleep patterns, but also to our now non-stressful night time routine. We read a story, give hugs and kisses, I hog tie Nona to the bed and we all fall happily asleep in no time at all. God bless us everyone for easy bedtimes!

Let me also apologize for the lack of new recipes on here. I've hunkered down into survivalist mode, which pretty much means just making the old standbys. New recipes should pick back up again in a week or two when I no longer have a zillion meetings a week that are sapping all of my mental reserves.

I've been super consistent with my running workouts and am happily breathing easier during that first wretched mile. Of course, it helps that the weather has been glorious here! Please don't throw anything at me Florida folks, but I have all of the windows open and I'm wearing a sweater over my tank top because I got chilly...at 1pm! It's moments like these where I just look out my window and stare at all of the trees swaying in the wind completely content in the moment. As far as I'm concerned, summer is long gone (and good riddance). I even sent Parker to school in a long-sleeved Halloween t-shirt.

In fact, I think that we'll decorate for Halloween in the next couple of weeks. I've decided to go over the top for all of the holidays this year and to decorate super early for everything. I've already informed the Irishman that we're putting up a tree and hanging lights the day after Thanksgiving. The holiday season is way too short not to enjoy every single day of it.

In honor of the first day of September, I'll be re-posting some of my favorite fall recipes for the rest of this week to get us all in the mood for the best season of all. Think of it as a way of increasing your anticipation for that first truly cool day.

The Fabric Eater

Thus far in our zoo, we've established that Chewie eats poop, Parker eats boogers and the Irishman eats fake, processed meats. Well, what I haven't shared with you is that Payton the Bionic Cat eats fabric. And strings. And pretty much anything that he can chew and swallow. In case you're wondering, he's 11 years old and he's been like this from the day I brought him home from the shelter. It defies logic.

I mean, what could really be so incredibly appetizing about eating fabric? The fact of the matter is that Payton is a glutton. When we have company over, I have to prompt them to please hang up their coats and cardigans in the coat closet so that they don't leave my house missing the collar of their garment like my father did a couple of Christmases ago. In fact, our house is immaculately clean for the simple reason that if we leave things out, Payton will eat them.

Case in point - a couple of days ago, Parker came up to me and said, "Mommy, I'm so frustrated!" When I inquired as to what was the matter, he produced his yo-yo and pointed out that it was missing the string. All 3 feel of the thin white string had vanished. I made a mad dash for his room to look to see whether any evidence remained and I came up empty handed.

Crap. Crapity crap crap. Payton ate it.

So, we're now on day three of "Payton Watch," which consists of looking for vomit, sifting through the litter box and pressing on Payton's stomach to see if it causes any discomfort. We're accustomed to this process since the fabic eating (and passing) is a monthly occurrence. Take, for example, this shirt that I put on last week.

I felt a slight draft a couple of minutes later and looked down to see the gaping hole. I have no idea how Payton even had a chance to eat it since he's not allowed in our bedroom, but alas, clearly he found a way. I don't even have the energy to get angry anymore when I find a piece of damaged clothing. I just remind everyone in the house that Payton is "special" and precautions need to be taken. Besides, he's old and his cloth eating days are limited. Even with all of his shortcomings (gluttony, a tendency to pass gas when he's sitting on you...), I'll miss the little bugger.

Back To The Pavement

I have to admit, I've been neglecting my running. It's really not my fault though. You see, during the late spring and summer, my bike calls to me and begs to be taken out regularly. Knowing that cold weather is just around the corner (and my riding days limited), I can't resist going out for a ride as often as I can. As a result, my running mileage suffers.

The great thing about running is that no matter how long you've taken off or had an irregular schedule, you're never more than 4 weeks away from being back on track. Sure, the next four weeks are going to be filled with sore calves, ice baths and lots of Gatorade, but man does it feel good to be back out there.

When I headed out this morning at dusk and breathed in the brisk air, my heart skipped a beat at the thought of spending this beautiful morning at the track. I headed out with anticipation. I was hoping that I would have the track to myself. I wasn't disappointed.

I went through the ritual of setting up my drink station and stretching my cold, tired muscles and then I was off. In my world, the first mile is always uncomfortable. My muscles are just starting to warm up, my lungs are getting used to sucking in deep breaths of air and my body is just protesting in general. However, I knew that this discomfort was temporary.

I was doing one-mile intervals this morning (run one mile, walk 1/4 mile) and by the third one, I had found my rhythm. Pardon the train reference (I've been spending too much time watching Thomas), I felt like an engine chugging around the track. Everything was regular and predictable - the length of my stride, the rhythm of my breathing, the easy swing of my arms. This is what I was waiting for.

By my last interval, I was tired, spent and glad that I had come out on this foggy morning. I'm still a ways away from an effortless 10-miler, but each journey starts with a single step and each mile with a single lap.

I may be rusty, but I'm well on my way.

A Day On The River

As a kid growing up, my water time mainly consisted of the beach and the pool. I don't think I had jumped into a river or lake until college and even then it was with great hesitation. The cloudiness of the water and the brackish taste were total turn-offs for me. Plus, who the heck knows what's hiding beneath the water's edge? Let's just say that I prefer my water chlorinated.

Part of the reason that we moved up here was to give Parker a childhood different than ours. Not that there's anything wrong with the concrete jungle of South Florida, but the Irishman and I both wished we had more exposure to nature...so here we are. Whenever our friends head out to the park with river access, we tag along. It's fun to watch the boys splash and play in the cool, shallow water of the river.

I normally stay out of the water myself, but on this particular day, it was scorching hot and the cool water on my feet felt wonderful. In fact, I was starting to see the virtues of the river. I mean, who really needs pools anyways when you have natural water sources, right? I was really warming up to the idea...until an old woman and her dog walked by and shared with us that she saw 15 baby snakes "just yonder"the other day...

!!!

Please excuse me why I start researching snake-free above ground pools.

Stolen Moments

As I was driving to campus the other morning just after sunrise, I notices that an eerie fog was curling above the water of the Tuckasegee River. I couldn't take my eyes off of it as I watched it ebb and flow at the water line. While I didn't have much time to spare before an appointment, I knew that I would regret it if I didn't stop to take a closer look.

So, I turned down a side street, hopped out of my car and grabbed my camera (which is with me always). As I stood there in the silent morning, I remembered that moments like this are why we're here. It's impossible not to notice the serene beauty around you in the mountains and to be completely mesmerized by it. When I catch moments like this, all of life's little stressors simply dissipate with the fog and I'm left feeling clean and light.

I stayed for about 10 minutes watching the fingers of fog float along the water's edge and then I got back in my car and drove to my appointment...late. Interestingly, I couldn't bring myself to care. In my mind, stolen moments such as those are always worth it.

The Parker and Payton Chronicles

My office, which was supposed to be a quiet and solitary place for academic study has instead become party central. The two main party goers, of course, are Parker and Payton.

This is primarily due to the fact that Payton refuses to leave the room for anything short of dinner.

He will, however, move 3 feet if you put Buzz Lighyear on his head and screech in his ear...but he generally holds his ground.

Unfortunately, this makes him a prime "playmate" for Parker.

Mind you, Parker won't do anything to Payton that he isn't willing to do to himself.

But that fact generally doesn't make Payton feel any more dignified.

Frappe'

On hot Greek afternoons, one of the most common drink choices is a frappe’, an iced coffee made with instant NesCafe coffee. Now, you would think since I have been drinking instant coffee almost exclusively for one year that it would have occurred to me to make this at home before now. Alas, it didn’t, but when the light bulb finally went off last month, I have been making it with reckless abandon ever since.

Okay, now the process of making a frappe’ is quite simple. I’m going to show you two ways to make this iced coffee, the first of which is with the Braun handheld mixer (my favorite kitchen tool). First, you add one spoonful of coffee and one spoonful of sugar to your cup.

Next fill your cup halfway with very cold water (I use water from the fridge). Now, using your immersion blender, blend the coffee mixture until it’s very frothy.

Then, top it off with cold milk (I usually end up using half water and half milk). Drop in some ice cubes and you’re done!

If you don’t have an immersion blender, simply put the coffee, sugar and water in a sealable water bottle or in a cocktail shaker. Shake it for a good 30 seconds to help dissolve the sugar and coffee. Add milk, give it another shake and pour it into your cup.

Enjoy this sweet and cooling treat! I should add that Greeks drink about 1/3 of the quantity in my cup but 12 oz. just doesn't cut it most days.

Growing Up

I think one of the quintessential dilemmas facing parents of growing children is that the kids desperately want to be bigger and the parents desperately want them to enjoy being small. Every day, Parker drinks his milk and eats a single bean (don't ask) because he wants to get stronger and taller. He runs into our bedroom in the morning asking hopefully, "Did I grow mommy?"

Now, I'm not one of those parents that wants their kid to stay a baby. In fact, for me it's the opposite. I love watching Parker get more advanced because it opens the door for us to do more things together. However, I desperately want him to be present in the moment and to not always be thinking of the following year. I was that kind of kid. Nine going on 35. I was serious and cautious and generally couldn't wait to be an adult.

What was I thinking!?!

So each day, I try to tell Parker one thing that is wonderful about being three. I want him to love his threes and remember them because the fours are just around the corner. Each day of childhood is so precious, especially when one in loved and cherished and taken care of. I feel like each year is so short and so many things can happen (good and bad) that it's imperative that we make the best of today.

So, while I will love seeing the man that will eventually fill his father's shoes, I can't wait to see all of the years in between. I have a feeling they're going to be great ones.

Vegan Zucchini Brownies

Yes, you read that correctly. These brownies are made with 2 cups of grated zucchini and skip the usual eggs, butter and milk that might be found in brownie recipes. Does it sound strange? Absolutely. Do they taste delicious? You bet! In fact, Parker just ate the last piece for "dessert" last night and he's already begging me to make another batch. And trust me, if it didn't taste good, Parker wouldn't touch it with a 10-foot pole. Oh and I neglected to tell the Irishman what was in the brownies and he ate about 4 of them. See? I wouldn't lead you astray. Now, here's what you'll need.

• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1 1/2 cups white sugar
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups shredded zucchini

Throwing these together couldn't be easier. Mix all of the wet ingredients together in one bowl and mix all of the dry ingredients together in another bowl. Then, just add the wet ingredients to the dry, mix thoroughly and pour the batter into a greased and floured 9x13 baking dish. Bake these at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

By the way, these brownies would be awesome with chocolate frosting, but I got too lazy to go the distance (and I didn't really want to give Parker the extra sugar). I love that there's an ample amount of zucchini in this recipe, but everyone still feels like they're getting a treat.

Mutiny

Our new house is set up in such a way that the animals are naturally segregated. The dogs have the upstairs living spaces and the cats have the entire downstairs as well as my office upstairs. For two months, there has been virtual peace between the felines and the canines. That is, until about a week ago when Payton decided that, being the first born, no space in this house should be off limits to him. So, with a crash of the hallway door, he made his entrance into the living room....dogs be damned.

*Cue the Twisted Sister music* We're not gonna to take it. No, we ain't gonna take it..."

Both inspecting the ground looking for crumbs.

Since Payton made his stand, he's come to join the rest of the family at dinner every night. He'll casually saunter into the kitchen and as soon as Nona scrambles to her feet to intercede, he shoots lightning bolts at her from his one good eye. Strangely enough, she stands down. Payton thinks it's because he's the "Top Dog," but really I think it's because she can feel violence emanating from me at the first sign that she's going to molest Payton. He's old, he has a bionic eye and his nickname is Fatimus Maximus...hasn't he suffered enough?

Fish Tacos

Lord have mercy on my taste buds. These fish tacos were so incredibly tasty that I'm going to be hard pressed not to make them daily. Let me begin by saying that I have no idea where I got this recipe from. I was cleaning out my office yesterday when I found a manila folder filled with different recipes. Some were torn out of magazines, some were printed off of the internet and this particular one was scribbled on a piece of paper. Perhaps someone verbally recited it to me years ago or perhaps I saw it on Food Network? The source remains a mystery, but God bless whoever came up with this.

Okay, here's what you'll need:

For the fish:

1 pound of a white fish (I used flounder, but tilapia would be great too)

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon garlic salt

(or just cheat and sprinkle taco seasoning on there)

For the sauce (just mix it all together in a bowl):

1/2 cup mayo

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 teaspoon dill

1/2 teaspoon garlic salt

1/2 teaspoon cumin

(I didn't actually measure the spices out, I just sprinkled a bit of each)

1 whole lemon juiced

Other ingredients:

1 package flour tortillas

1 package cole slaw mix

2 cups shredded cheese (monterey jack or cheddar is fine)

Alright, start off by sprinkling your fish with the spices and baking it or broiling until it flakes easily (usually in about 6 minutes or so). I baked mine in a 400 degree oven simply because I don't like the broiler that we have.

While the fish is cooking, I mixed all of the ingredients for the sauce together and I set it aside.

Then, I put a large skillet over high heat, sprayed it with canola oil and (once hot) lightly fried a tortilla. I left it on there until the tortilla started to bubble. I folded it as soon as I took it off of the skillet and left it folded to cool.

Once the fish is done, it's time to build the tacos. First, I put cheese on the shell. Then, I added the fish, followed by a handful of the cole slaw mix. Finally, I added a generous helping of the sauce. And that's it!

Seriously, these fish tacos made me so happy. They are flavorful and crisp and just exotic enough to feel like a treat. Now, I just need to invite some people over so that I can serve them to others and share my happiness. It's a double treat that these are quite healthy, full of protein and filling in a very satisfying way.

Now please, go out and make these today. It really is the right thing to do and your loved ones will thank you.

This Is Only A Recording...

I've been spending a lot of time with Parker over the last few weeks. My classes don't start until the 23rd and his don't start until the 25th, so for the month of August, it's pretty much the mommy and Parker show. We've been taking outings to the park and meeting his friends for play dates...

Feeding the crazy geese and ducks at Lake Junaluska.

...but we've also been spending a lot of time at home since I'm a hermit. By the way, I'm still waiting for that to be fashionable. The word "hermit" has such a negative connotation, don't you think?

Anyway, what I noticed over the last couple of weeks is that for the most part, I'm completely superfluous to Parker's daily activities. In fact, I think that a tape recorder stating the following things could do most of my job as a parent (excluding the cuddling). Here is a list of the top five thing that I say most often.

No need to call CPS, Parker put the tape over his own mouth...although I won't say that I wasn't tempted.

1. Please stop harassing the dogs. In the absence of siblings, Parker uses the dogs to play chase, balance Frisbees on their heads, cuddle, play hide and seek (I found Chewie in the hall closet once)... You get the point. I probably say some variation of "please stop harassing the dogs" at least 26 times a day.

2. Did you wash your hands? Let's just go ahead and put this one on repeat, shall we? Parker is a normal little boy and by that, I mean that if there's something disgusting within his reach, he's bound to touch it. His bathroom is set up with a step stool in front of the sink, soap within reach and a towel hung low to dry his hands.

3. Is that how you ask for something politely? I am a big proponent of manners in children. I feel like if they don't learn it before they leave for school, they're bound to act like Neanderthals for the rest of their lives. So if Parker says, "Give me some milk." I ask him to rephrase it until he asks politely. "Can you please give me some milk? Thank you."

4. Yuck! Don't put that in your mouth! I again refer to normal boy behavior, which is that if you can't tell what something is by looking at it, perhaps giving it a taste might help. I cannot tell you how incredibly repulsed I am by most of the things that Parker tries (or succeeds) in putting in his mouth. The great irony here is that this is a child who refuses to taste foods that "look funny." Boggles the mind.

5. I'm sorry. Yup, I say this one a lot. I think it's important to model behavior, so when I screw up (which is a lot), I apologize for it. As a serious introvert, it's sometimes hard for me to keep the exasperation out of my voice when I ask Parker to do something for the 15th time. It's also hard for me to deal with having the munchkin in my personal space for 8 hours straight. The funny thing about the personal space issue is that when they sense that you've about hit your limit for having them in your face, lap, hair, they ramp up the closeness because they can sense that you're about to pull away. So, I put myself in timeout when I sense my patience growing thin.

So, if I had to boil it down, I would say that parenting is two parts love, one part exasperation and one part regret (for the exasperation). Good thing that the love makes up for it, huh?

Fasolakia

One of the wonderful produce items that we picked up at our neighbor's farm stand was 3 lbs. of green beans. They were just harvested that morning and I couldn't wait to cook them up. We decided to go two with different recipes since we had so many beans, one of which I will share here today and the other (an Irishman-requested dish, which I consider an abomination of fresh produce) will not be mentioned further. Suffice it to say that it involved a pound of bacon and bacon fat.

Back to the fasolakia. These do take a bit of time to cook (about two hours), but they are hearty and delicious and definitely worth the wait. Now that I think of it, I don't think I've ever eaten fresh green beans cooked a different way. In our house, it would have been a sacrilege. Since my mother has been making this weekly for decades, I went straight to the source for this recipe. Here are her instructions verbatim.

Dear Cyndy,

This is such an easy and tasty dish. First wash the fasolakia and snip the ends.

Usually for 2 pounds of fasolakia I use the following ingredients:

1 large onion, chopped

1 clove of garlic, chopped
1 chopped Cubanelle or bell pepper (Yiayia likes to add a few pieces from a hot pepper and I do the same at home. I have one chilli pepper in the freezer and add 3 or 4 thin slices for a little kick)
1/2 cup olive oil
1 can of stewed tomatoes (or substiture with fresh very red and soft tomatoes)

2 baking potatoes, peeled and cut into big chunks
1/2 cup fresh parsley
Salt and pepper to taste

Lightly saute the onion, pepper and garlic in oil. Add the fasolakia and saute those too for about 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes. Rinse the can with about 3/4 cup water and add that too.

Cook for about 60 minutes in medium heat. Add the potatoes about 20 minutes into the cooking process. Keep an eye on the water. If they are dry add another 1/2 cup hot water.

Add the salt, pepper and parsley and let it cook for another 30 or 40 minutes. The fasolakia need to be cooked well and have some juice.

I am sure I did not forget any ingredients this time.

Love,

Mom

Well, there you have it folks. From my mom's 1975 kitchen straight to yours!

Homesick

I was back in Tallahassee this past weekend to attend a friend's graduation. I've made the trip down there a number of times since we've moved to North Carolina, but for whatever reason, I was struck with a touch of sadness this past trip. As I was driving into downtown on Saturday morning, I grew incredibly nostalgic. I had driven those roads for 13 years and while I still knew every twist and turn in the road, they weren't my roads anymore.

That night, over drinks at a rooftop bar overlooking the city, I realized that I wasn't homesick for Tallahassee, I was homesick for our house (which we still own). The house that we bought as a newly married couple. The house where we brought Parker home from the hospital. It was lovely and quaint and perfect. More importantly, it was ours. Since we moved a year ago, we've lived in two houses and while they've both been great in their own way, they've both been temporary. Not that there's anything wrong with temporary and quite frankly, we're as yet undecided as to whether we want to stay near campus or move into Asheville. While I logically know that buying a house would be a bad move right now, it still stresses me out that I don't know where we'll be living in a year or two.

My problem with transiency lies in the fact that I like roots. Deep, predictable roots. You see, my parents have been living in the same house for over 25 years. When we visit them, I still sleep in the same room that I've been sleeping in since I was 7 years old. Nothing feels safer than being in my parents' house and I want to make sure that Parker has that same sense of security. While I know that we can make a home out of any house that we call our own (however temporarily), I'll wistfully wait for the day when we've landed at our final nesting place

Dirty Rice

When left to his own devices (meaning if I'm out of town for at least a weekend), my husband will generally make something out of a box. Hamburger Helper, instant mashed potatoes or some variety of a Zataran's box mix. When I asked him about his overuse of boxed food, his response was that it was easy and readily available. Mind you, since we don't keep that stuff in the house, he still has to make a trip to the grocery to buy them. And while they may be "easy," they're certainly no easier than a lot of homemade recipes.

So, I set out to show him that making something from scratch doesn't have to entail using 20 ingredients with hours of prep time. Besides, something made from scratch is bound to taste better than something that's been sitting on a shelf for months. As my example recipe, I decided to make an at home version of dirty rice, one of his favorites from Zataran's. Oh and my version takes less time that the box mix.

Here are the ingredients that you'll need:

1/2 pound bulk sausage

1/2 pound ground beef

1/2 cup chopped onion

1/4 cup chopped celery

1/4 cup chopped green onion

2 cups cooked rice (hot)

1/8 cup chopped fresh parsley

salt and pepper to taste

I should mention that you can use whatever meats you'd like in this. The traditional version calls for diced chicken livers, but I thought the sausage would add a nice flavor. Okay, first, get your rice going. Then, in a large, deep skillet, brown the sausage and ground beef until crumbled and cooked all of the way through. I usually break apart the sausage before I add it to the skillet to help it get started.

When the meat is cooked through, go ahead and add in the onion, green pepper and celery and saute until soft (about 6-8 minutes). Next, add in the rice and parsley along with the salt and pepper and fold the rice in until it's all mixed together well. Make sure that you scrape up all of the browned bits at the bottom of your pan since they'll add a ton of flavor.

And that's it! Serve it up nice and hot. This meal clocks in at about 20-25 minutes. It's so easy, even the Irishman can do it!

Phoning Home

I have a serious aversion to answering telephones. I'm not sure what the root cause of that is, but if the house phone rings, sometimes I don't even bother getting up to see who's on the Caller ID. Now normally, you'd think that this wouldn't be a problem because if it's important, they'll leave a voice mail, right? Well, I'm not big on checking voice mail either. In fact, I sometimes just leave them on there for a week and then delete them without listening. I know that it's delinquent of me and probably irresponsible, so I've come up with a solution. Recently, I've been letting Parker answer our home phone.

It's brilliant. If it's someone that he knows, he'll chat with them for a bit and then come get me. If not, he'll probably tell them all about his day and then politely hang up on them. I should mention that we haven't given our home number out to anyone other than family, so it's either someone who wants to talk to Parker anyways or it's a solicitor. If it's work related, they generally call our cellphones or send an email.

Well, Parker has so much fun talking on the phone that he decided he would like to place outgoing calls also. So occasionally, I'll let him prank call a family member for kicks. Yesterday, he really wanted to call his daddy. The only problem was that I already knew that the Irishman wouldn't be available to talk. For whatever reason, Parker wasn't taking "no" for an answer, so I unplugged the phone and hid it. Prank calling family is one thing, but randomly hitting numbers on your phone is how you end up with the police at your door.

With a 3-year-olds ingenuity, Parker decided that he didn't need me or my phone to call his daddy. He would simply make a phone. And he did. Out of a carrot.

He then proceeded to "call daddy"...

...and have a 15 minute conversation with him.

It sounded like they had quite the enlightening conversation.

Zucchini Fritters with Tzatziki

About a month ago, one of our neighbors set up a farm stand and put a sign outside that said, "Mama's Vegetables." So, naturally, I sent the Irishman over to see what kind of vegetables mama had for sale. It turns out that they regularly have cucumbers, squash and green beans available - fresh picked that day. What's more, they're organically grown and about 10 times cheaper than the grocery store produce. For $4, he came home with 3 pounds of green beans, 8 cucumbers and 2 yellow zucchini. Jackpot!

So, I set off to start cooking with our wonderful, fresh produce. I was a bit stumped on what I wanted to make with the zucchini, but then I recalled the delicious Greek zucchini fritters that my mom often makes and got to cooking.

Here's what you need:

• 2 Medium Zucchinis, grated and liquid squeezed out
• 1 egg, beaten
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• ½ onion, finely chopped
• ½ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 Tbs.mint, fresh or dried
• ¼ cups crumbled feta cheese
• salt and pepper to taste

Throwing them together is simple. Just add all of the ingredients into a large bowl and mix well. Then add about 1/2 inch of olive oil in the bottom of your saute pan. When the oil is hot (you can drop in a tiny bit of batter and see if it sizzles), drop in the fritters by the heaping spoonful, pressing them down lightly to flatten them a bit.

These cook very quickly, so you only need to cook them a couple of minutes per side, or until they're golden brown. Drain them on a paper towel and serve them either by themselves or if you really want a treat, whip up a batch of tzatziki to serve with them. These were so good, I need to make another trip to the farm stand today!

A Sunday Morning Ride

One of my greatest pleasures in life is riding a bike. When we lived in Florida, riding was effortless. With long stretches of flat road, it was easy to pick up and maintain speed. My bike computer would often clock average speeds of 20 MPH. The experience was entirely sensory. The wind in your face, the feeling of the handlebars under your palms, the sound of the changing gears as you unconsciously shifted for the best cadence. It was, in a word...awesome.

Riding in the mountains, however, is a completely different experience. While there are brief flat stretches, each ride primarily consists of grunting and gasping up the mountain roads (at about 7 MPH) and then breaking the speed limit while sailing down the other side. Seriously, the speed limit is usually 25 MPH and we often race in excess of 30.

Since we typically pick rural country roads to cycle on, the scenery is idyllic. There are gorgeous barns like the ones above and old gas stations that look like they came straight out of the 1950s.

(Oh and in case you were wondering, I had my small pocket-sized camera strapped to the handlebars so that I could take pictures during the ride.) Then there were cows! This next picture is for my friend Kasey, who was my riding/running buddy in Florida. Look Kasey, happy cows!

We also saw goats, horses, roosters and wild turkeys.

If you needed any more confirmation that we truly live in the country, there you have it. All in all, it was a very satisfying ride. Although I have to say that I'm surprised that my friend Ann is still willing to ride with me considering the strength of my fight or flight response, particularly the flight part of that equation.

You see, I'm terrified of being chased by dogs (scary childhood memory), so as soon as one runs out onto the road to chase us, I cut to the left side of the road and take off like the wind...in effect, leaving Ann to fend for herself. I'm always embarrassed after the encounter is over, but I always assure her that as soon as I get myself to safety, I'll send back for help. It's the kind of friend that I am.