Torn

On Saturday I took my mountain bike out for a ride and found the best spot on the James River in the Richmond area. I mean, two other people there on a glorious sunny Saturday. So I'm torn. Should I post about it on my Blog and risk everyone finding out about this secret paradise. Well, luckily nobody very much reads my blog. As far as I know it hasn't yet become the 'Time Out' of RVA. I think it's probably safe to give everyone this snapshot of the locale.

Pulled Pork

We're talkin' serious bone suckin' sauce here, people. My amazing multi-talented wifey put the new crock pot to good use today to make some homemade pork barbecue. After 10 hours of simmering it was just a big plate of flaky, juicy, pig goodness. With coleslaw, and beans. A little slice of Southern Heaven.

Kittens!

Climbing Kittens, originally uploaded by evens.john.

For at least six months now we have been the home away from home for our next-door neighbor's kitten. She first came to us as the runt of the litter, desperately hungry because her brother would scarf all the food. We would take pity on her and supply a handful of kibble or a few cat treats, but her small size and speed meant she could easily slip in the house a steal half of Barry's dinner before he knew it was happening. Eventually we gave up trying to keep her out. She and Barry got along fine and she never made a mess in the house. Her friendly temperament is rivaled by few cats I have ever met and one has to admit she is a fine looking specimen.
Just over a week ago, after final putting together the clues (round belly, huge appetite and conspicuous nipples) we realized our precious girl was no longer a kitten! One of the rotten neighborhood cats had had his wicked way with her! Now, you may notice that heretofore the feline in question has borne no name. Sadly the neighbors never christened the poor lass, but in light of this new development we felt obligated to provide her with a title. 'Juno' came to mind as a befitting name.

We were desperately worried that Juno's small size would be an impediment to her carrying and successfully delivering the kittens (of number, unknown). The neighbor seemed unconcerned, and we fretted as to whether we should take her to the vet for a check up, and pay out of pocket. In the end, events took care of themselves. We returned home on Sunday afternoon and Juno followed us in as usual. However, this time her mood was noticeably different and her agitation wasn't simply caused by hunger. It quickly became apparent that kitten birth was imminent, and moments later Juno had disappeared into our bedroom closet.

As the first kitten was making its way into the world backwards, the neighbors arrived home from wherever they'd been. I delivered the news that the kittens were on their way, and I wasn't sure how well it was going. The neighbor told me he thought it was funny that his cat was giving birth in my bedroom, but I wasn't particularly amused and returned inside to check on the progress. Thankfully, nature was taking it's course and two kittens had soon been delivered, cleaned and nudged in the direction of a nipple.

The action appeared to have died down, so Kristal and I went out to a friend's house for dinner. Upon our return, we discovered the kittens had multiplied! There were now four new lives in our closet! Two calico, one black-and-white and one with the same coloration as it's mother.

The deed had been done in the bottom of a cardboard box with little time for preparation. It was now more-or-less covered in bodily fluids so the first order of business was to transfer mother and litter to cleaner surroundings. We set a towel and some paper shreddings in a large Tupperware and managed to get the whole family situated. On Monday evening the neighbors apparently decided they should take some responsibility in this situation so took the whole kit-and-kabodle back to their place. Hope I get my Tupperware back.

We were sad to see them go. Juno is practically a member of the family, and while we didn't do much but let her get on with it, we are proud to have been able to provide an environment where she felt safe to house her new family. She did an admirable job for such a small girl. We hope that the neighbors keep and eye on the new arrivals, although we will probably be over there ourselves on a frequent basis to check the kittens' (and mother's) progress.

Honeymoon Chapter 6: Remembering St John

I sit here today a married man for exactly four weeks. We just received our official wedding photos so it is time for me to wrap up my blog posts about the honeymoon and start working on sharing with you all some of the wonderful memories from the big day itself! Our trip to St John will of course always remind me of the happy day that Kristal and I publicly and permanently declared our dedication to each other. But for me when I think of St John I will also always remember Dribbles. What can I say - I'm a cat person. It is a great comfort to know that while we have returned to less-than-tropical Richmond, Dribbles is still happy as can be, chillin' out on his Caribbean Island. We will return.

Pony Pasture, Aug 16th

Fish, Clouds, Wading, Leaf

Honeymoon Chapter 5: Sunrise

Sunrise, originally uploaded by evens.john.

This post needs no words other than to credit Kristal with getting up at 6am and capturing this amazing shot

He loves it!

He loves it!, originally uploaded by evens.john.

Kayaking the Z-dam

The Saturday before my folks returned to England my Dad and I went out on the James in a couple of sit-on-top kayaks. We'd intended to make it down to Reedy Creek from just above the Huguenot Bridge. One obstacle stood in our way: the Z-dam.

I know there are signs telling you not to do it, but I've always wanted to boat through the hole. The river was just above 4ft at Westham, so I knew not much water would be going through. Turns out it's a bad idea no matter what the conditions are.

So, here's a tip: Don't boat the Z-dam.

(According to this blog, river was at 5.3ft when this video was shot.

Honeymoon Chapter 4: Drink and Food

"I traveled all the way to St Thomas to not get a haircut!"

When we were done sitting on the beach for the day we would go in search of a bite to eat. Food prices in the grocery stores are extortionate, but bars and restaurants charged little more than similar joints in Richmond, so we opted to eat out most nights. The closest place to our cottage was called Shipwreck Landing and it was the first place we tried. I think we just stopped in for a drink. On their specials list was a strawberry banana pina colada and it was sooo good. Its wasn't very busy so we got chatting to the barmaid and got some good tips about beaches to visit. I think every time we went there we found some nice people to talk to.

The best restaurant on the quiet side of the island was undoubtedly Aqua Bistro. It was a bit on the pricey side but the servings were big enough to give us a decent lunch the next day too. The food was just great and the chef was kind enough to share his recipe for coconut curry pasta sauce with us. Towards the end of the trip we went back and sat at the bar in the evening. The bartender was hilarious because he got caught up in a conversation with one guest (mostly about his kayaking business) and completely neglect the rest of the bar! He was a really nice guy though, and on the island you don't really complain about slow service!

Our favorite place was Skinny Legs. For one, the drinks were ridiculously cheap (vodka pineapple for a dollar) and they pour them strong. Secondly, a lot of cool people work there. One afternoon we stopped in for a quick drink. We sat at a table but didn't get any service right away so decided to snag a couple stools at the bar. Just as we started on our second (and last) round, Rodney arrives. I never quite ascertained what Rodney's position was at Skinny's, but he was clearly well enough involved to climb into the roof space to fix the Ipod connection. Anyway, his story is that he went over to St Thomas to get a hair cut. After waiting in line for a couple hours he gets fed up and comes home. No hair cut. And now he needs a drink. Beth, the barmaid obliges, and before we know what's happening we all have shooters in front of us. I did the first one out of politeness, but the next two I did because they were so damned tasty. I couldn't help notice that Beth had a system going on. She makes up a shaker of "Beth-ikaze", pours five shots, and the rest goes in an empty water bottle. We soon discover why: As Rodney waves goodbye she throws him the now-full bottle of liquor for him to enjoy at home! Needless to say we liked Skinny's. That night we got chatting to the grill chef, so went back later in the week for a couple burgers and a few Presidentes.

The last joint I want to talk about is the Tourist Trap. It deserves a mention because the food was really good, and it came out of a shack by the side of the road. OK, the portions were a bit small for the money, but they had just recently opened up so they deserve a chance. And it's run by ex-cons, so what do you expect?! No seriously, the entire time we were there the staff kept mentioning their parole officers. The place is run by Mary, the cooking is done by Larry, and the old stoner hanging around was called Gary. It was like 'Cheers' but in the Caribbean instead of Boston.

Wake the #@%! up

Wake the #@%! up, originally uploaded by evens.john.

We went to Meadow Farm this morning to take some pictures of the Mariner's Compass Quilt that Kristal made as a wedding present to ourselves. I got this great picture of a cockerel in mid crow!

Honeymoon Chapter 3: Beaches

"Isn't there meant to be a beach around here somewhere?"

The Island of St John has more beaches, bays and coves that I care to count. With such a wide range to choose from we felt duty-bound to sample as many beaches as we could. Thus we dedicated the majority of our vacation time to simple sitting on the white sands and swimming in the clear waters.

I'll try to cover the locations we visited in more-or-less chronological order. Be sure to check out my flickr photostream for photos tagged "beaches".

On our first day we headed out to our nearest beach on the South-East shore of St John. Salt Pond Bay involved a short hike down from the parking area. Even early in the morning the sun beats down hot and relentless. I was desperate to finally get to the ocean.
"Isn't there meant to be a beach around here somewhere?" I grumbled. At that exact moment we rounded a corner to find the most pristine cove you can imagine! We both gasped in amazement of the sheer beauty we were faced with. I was definitely worth the hike.

The Bay is so name because there is a shallow pond there separated by a thin spit of land. Obviously it's proximity to the sea means the pond is very salty, and is a unique habitat within the confines of he Virgin Islands National Park. There was a flock of Least Terns nesting on the shore of the pond.

Our favorite beach of the trip was probably Maho Bay. It's the last beach you get to on the North Shore Road from Cruz Bay. The road runs right next to the beach so you literally step out of the jeep and you're there! Despite it's convenience it was never crowded.

We only visited one other beach on the North Shore, which was Cinnamon Bay. These beaches are basically full of all the tourists who ride taxis out from Cruz Bay. For some reason it was too hot, too windy and we lasted about 15 minutes before going back to Maho!

On Thursday we rode out to the East End and stopped at Haulover Bay. This was a rocky beach, so boasted some of the best snorkeling of the trip.

Friday saw us visiting Lameshur Bay. As soon as we got there it started raining, so we retreated to the VIERS site to visit the exhibition about the Tektite project that took place right in Lameshur Bay. By the time we came out the weather had cleared up. We were relaxing on the beach when a large shadowy object appeared under the waves. It was a nurse shark swimming right in the shallow water! I followed it as it swam the length of the beach. There was a rocky outcrop at the East end of the beach so I climb up on the rocks about ten feet above the water. I was looking down into a deeper pool below the rocks as the shark glided in and I got a great view of it lazily swimming around in the crystal clear water.

Honeymoon Chapter 2: The Cottage

"The view is to die for."

Sago Cottage is located at 18°19'45.70" N 64°42'32.62" W so go look it up on Google Earth! The elevation is about 515ft, which might not sound like a lot until you consider that the road at the bottom of the hill is at 30ft above sea level, so it's quite a climb up a gnarly dirt road. We really got lucky finding this place. Simple surroundings to spend our honeymoon in, and as everybody in the guest book agreed, the view is to die for.

Honeymoon Chapter 1: Getting There

"...Passengers may disembark using the rearward door at their own risk."

Having been cooped up in this cigar tube for far too long already, we jumped at the chance to escape even a few seconds sooner. As we stepped out of the stale air into the ocean breeze and azure blue sky we knew our Caribbean honeymoon had finally begun.

Of course getting to this point in time was not such a smooth ride. The wedding had gone wonderfully, and we got home in time to open all the cards and read the kind words that so many people had written. Finally we began to come down from the excitement of the day and the tiredness crept in. Just before drifting off I drowsily programmed an alarm on my phone. The next thing we knew, my parents were knocking at the door to take us to the airport. It was 4.30am and I'd set the alarm for the afternoon! Luckily the packing was almost complete, so we threw some clothes on and hurried out the door. I hardly even bothered to wake up as I was confident we would soon be on a plane to Newark and I could catch a few z's.

Five hours later we were preparing to board a plane to Charlotte! Unfortunately our plane to Newark had suffered an incurable mechanical difficulty so we were re-routed on another airline. Thankfully US Airways took good care of us, even serving us an unexpected lunch on the flight down to St Thomas. Soon we were making our final approach over the deep blue waves and dark green hillsides of the U.S. Virgin Islands.

Our delays of course threw the rest of the days schedule off a little. The airport in St Thomas is like no other I have been to. Small, of course but insanely busy and bursting with tropical color and heat. When we got to the baggage claim the crowd around the carousel was three bodies deep and there was no indication of which flight's luggage had arrived. Surely all these people couldn't have come on our plane an the one other aircraft parked at the gates?

I located a payphone before I plunged into the baggage collection melee, and got in contact with Juancito, our substitute taxi driver on St Thomas. He was right outside and came into meet me. It actually didn't take long for our bags to appear and we were led to our awaiting chariot. All the tourists ride around in these converted pickup trucks with open safari-style awnings bolted to the bed and bench seats. It wasn't the most luxurious ride, but like being on a motorcycle it was a good way to connect with our new surroundings. Our route to the ferry took us along the St Thomas Bay shoreline and then up into the mountain roads to get to the East End and the Red Hook ferry port.

We had just missed a ferry and they departed hourly. That gave us just enough time to enjoy a well-earned island drink before boarding yet another form of tranport for the final leg of our journey to St John.

Mystery Melon

When I planted cucumbers, only one came up, so when I found a similar looking volunteer sprouting in the compost I transplanted the little guy in there with what I thought was his big brother. However, the volunteer has now begun bearing fruit and they are most certainly not cucumbers. They look like some kind of melon - almost watermelon-ish. Anyone have any ideas?

Daiquiri

The weather is fine outside, so Kristal picked up this small table at Target so we can sit in the yard for the odd meal or afternoon beverage. I think she had intended for us to mainly use it in the back yard, but there is too much shade, and we are not shy people. So we sit out on the front lawn dining on clams and corn. Or in this case enjoying a frozen strawberry daiquiri! Good times!

Camping at Loft Mountain

The situation was so dire I was threatening to make us camp out in the back yard.


Normally by the time June rolls around Kristal and I have already taken at least one foolhardy camping trip. Just because the sun is shining on Friday afternoon doesn't mean that the water is warm or that the weekend won't be drenched in rain. But we both grew up with camping and its a therapeutic exercise of getting away from the stresses of everyday life. Life is far from everyday for us at the moment with our wedding day racing closer, so we just hadn't found the time to haul the tent out of the shed and take a trip. This weekend looked like it would also be consumed with wedding preparations, but at the last moment we got an invitation from Melissa and Joel to camp in Shenandoah, and we both thought it would be a great idea.


We set out on Saturday morning, stopping for lunch in Waynesboro. The town is tiny and we almost thought we wouldn't find a place to eat when we came upon and book and soup shop. Yes, you read that correctly! Someone had turned this gabled house into a bookshop that also served soups, salads and sandwiches. Kristal got the ham and brie ciabatta and I opted for a bean salad and they were both delicious and reasonable. We decided that we would move to Waynesboro, and soon had everything planned except for what we'd do for money...


Sadly leaving our imaginary future hometown we were soon on Skyline Drive winding our way towards the campsite. On our arrival we miraculously met up with Melissa and Joel without the aid of cell phones. We decided to ease ourselves in gently to the hiking and chose to stroll the Frazier Discovery Trail that gives some impressive views of the Shenandoah Valley to the North-West. The hills were a slight shock to the system but when we returned to the campsite we still had a couple hours until dinner, so we hiked a section of the Appalachian Trail as it sweeps around the campground. We found we had acclimatised quickly, which is to say we had learned to take more frequent rest breaks! While taking a quick breather I discovered that a tick was burrowing into my leg. Ticks are notorious for carried Limes Disease, so it is important to pull them out promptly, ensuring the the whole head comes out too. I admit I was a little scared when I first spotted it but the fear was soon replaced by the thrill of getting my first ever tick.


This time when we got back to camp we had definitely generated an appetite and so gorged on snacks while I got a fire going. We had to wait for the blaze to die down to some hot embers so we broke out the travel scrabble. I'm going to shamelessly brag here for a second, because I spent my childhood being the youngest in my family and thus roundly thrashed by ruthless and uber-literate relatives whenever we played scrabble. I had hoped that my years away from home would have leveled the playing field, but alas I was made fun of for taking too long on my turn and ended up making some hasty word choices that let to an all too familiar downfall. You can imagine my excitement then to actually win a game of scrabble, against worthy opponents, without even having to persuade them that any made-up words were British variations.Thankfully the fire was now ready for cooking so there could be no rematch to knock me off my pedestal (although I did have a few disastrous rounds of Hearts after dinner). We got to cooking meat and marshmallows and ate until we felt we had negated the days exercise. The sun began to set so us boys went off to point our SLRs at the sunset.



I had a fitful night's sleep, desperately wishing I could doze off long enough to dream about my pillowtop mattress back home. At around five in the morning I gave up and went for a dawn stroll around the campsite. Venus shone brightly as the sky began to light up and I tried to pick out birdsongs I recognized in the morning chorus. I ran into several rabbits and three deer hanging out at the dumpsters. I returned to the tent and got in a couple hours of good sleep to prepare for the hard day's hiking ahead. After a light breakfast we hiked down to Doyles River Falls. There had been a lot of rain during the week so an impressive amount of water was coming over them. We climbed around for a while finding good angles to take a photograph from, before tackling the grueling slog back up the hill. We estimated an elevation change of about 700-800 feet which translated to an average grade of about 10%. We then regretted having done our estimation. It turned out to go a lot quicker than we expected, as we'd spent a lot of time on the way down admiring the views, inspecting the insect life and carefully threading our way down slippery section which we traversed with far more confidence on the uphill return. We got back to the car in good time and went in search of a cheeseburger. Then it was time to head back to town. After a couple hours in the car, the toll on the legs became apparent as we groaned in agony trying to get out the door. Still, it was well worth it (especially as it was such a cheap deal) and I hope to make it back to the park for some more challenging hikes. Maybe someone will even get me to do an overnighter one of these days!

Ms McKelvey at the table

Ms McKelvey at the table, originally uploaded by evens.john.

My cousin and her lover are in a band who are just starting to break into the gigging scene. Being the good cousin that I am I try to show up and support them from time to time. One of the main advantages is that we discover new bars and pubs in Richmond that we might otherwise never had heard of. First was Northside Grille which has become something of a regular haunt for us. Then it was Side Pocket, a pool hall not two minutes drive from where I work, but hidden behind a Holiday Inn so you'd never know it was there. Pitchers of Bud were $7 and we played three or four games of pool (at a very slow pace because we're out of practice) for about eleven bucks. You can't really beat that for a cheap night out.
The rules of American 8-ball (so called because there are 15 balls on the table) a similar to those of UK pub pool that I grew up on, except you never get two shots. Like pub pool, there are several situations where no-one is exactly sure what the rule is, and in the interests of having fun it's usually better to do whatever makes the game most exciting/last longer.
It was a Saturday night and we easily got a table at around 8.30, so I'm thinking we might be spending a little time at the Side Pocket in the near future...

Soon I will post about something other than gardening

But not this time. Now, I'm not trying to be competitive, I'm just very proud of how my garden, in both the American and English meanings of the word, are doing. My tomatoes are completely unrecognisable from the midgets I photographed for the previous post. Everything in the square gardens is a little stunted because the boxes aren't very deep. I lined the bottoms of them with that black roll to keep the weeds down and it definitely helped prevent the wiregrass from taking over. But now that I'm sure all the grass underneath the soil is long gone, I think the black stuff is holding back my vegetables. Consequently the plant flower when they are very small. I was picking off the flowers from the tomatoes until they got a bit bigger, and now I think they are a sufficient size to do their thing. We have tons of flowers; lets hope that converts into a good crop of fruit. The peas are producing well right now. I'm slightly embarrassed by my diminutive peas, having seen various people's pea plant in Mathews which reached a good two or three feet. Mine decided that eight inches was tall enough and started flowering. Tha'ts fine by me, since we are getting a decent number of peas. I think we'll have a few with dinner tonight.

Remember than small lonely potato plant peeking up through the leaf litter? Several of his friend decided to make an appearance, including some volunteers from the compost which I transplanted. Fortunes are varied for these guys. A few are doing really well, while others are having the living daylights eaten out of them by some agent unknown. I'm just going to see how it goes. To be honest if I get a single potato out of this endeavor I'll be rather happy.


Another plant that is doing well is my single pickling cucumber vine. As instructed by the seed packet, I planted a 'hill' of five or six seeds, expecting to thin the seedlings to the best two plants. But only one seed plucked up the courage to show itself above ground, so he was selected by default. I also scavenged a volunteer maybe-cucumber (its hard to positively identify from two leaves) and but him in the pot too. Clearly the extra depth for root growth is benefiting the resident cucumber, but the newcomer's life still hang precariously in the balance, and if he doesn't put on a growth spurt soon his bigger brother may well seal his fate.
Moving on to the other type of garden my rose bush, as predicted, exploded into a sea of red. However, these rose bushes are found all over the place in our locality, so they must be a hardy variety. I can take too much credit for its success. Other recent additions from the McKelvey's include a honeysuckle that we wrapped around the banister of our front stoop; several varieties of violet than went in the front bed and window box; a lily that I put in next to a stump at the end of the drive, and broke my gardening fork in the process! This further confirms my theory that someone is introducing cheese into the steel supply. I was levering softly against a stubborn root, and two prongs bent them snapped right off. Pathetic - and the second fork to meet it's demise at my hands at Fruehauf Rd. Maybe I'll add that to my wedding registry!

My other garden is a vineyard

In my dreams I am a rich landowner, living in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, and I spend my days tending to my vines and making world famous wines. To feed this fantasy, it is occasionally necessary to visit the vineyards of the real rich snobs and sip their wine imagining it to be my own. Our plans this weekend changed at the last moment and presented an ideal opportunity to visit Shenandoah National Park and fit in a couple wine tours.


We left with a picnic lunch packed an no particular plan in mind. We figured on reaching Skyline Drive and seeing what hiking spots presented themselves. There are so many trails it can be a bit overwhelming, but we picked one that looked like it went somewhere, and did a short loop that took us to a rocky outcrop with a breathtaking view. To the West of the ridge the weather was fine and sunny, but as we carried on up Skyline drive we crossed over to the Eastern side of the mountains and became enveloped in low misty cloud. Another glance at the map revealed an obvious path home along Rt 33, which would fortuitously take us past the Barboursville and Horton Wineries.


Barboursville was bustling with students who had recently completed their semester at UVA, so we stayed long enough only to decide that the recent crop of wines there was nothing special. We did take the opportunity to visit the ruins of a house designed by Thomas Jeffeson for the local governor, which had unfortunately burned down one Christmas Day. Moving down the road to Horton, we arrived just ahead of a Coach-load of wine-tourers, but had time to enjoy our tasting in peace before they burst into the main hall. The wines at Horton were much more to our liking, and we enjoyed the Stonecastle White (a blend of Viognier and Chardonnay) so much that we bought a case for the wedding. They also have a selection of fruit wines that are very sweet but like nothing else you'll ever taste. I tried the cranberry variety, and will remember it for next Thanksgiving.

Latest Garden News

Apparently I've had a request from a very dear reader of JB USA for some pictures of Kristal's and my Garden, so here they are. In the fist plot we have the spinach that I painstakingly nurtured through the late snowfall we had here on the East Coast. It was all worth it as we had a bumper crop and it keeps coming. Its really the first thing that we've successfully harvested from out gardening efforts. Last year we got a cucumber or two, some inedible tomatoes and about three peas. Talking of peas, we have about a dozen or twenty pea plants climbing up the netting. One has started flowering, and I might be to do some manual pollination to ensure we get some peas from them. In between we have some lettuce from Joyce, which finally looks like its all well established so we might be able to pick a few leaves soon. In the other spaces I put in a couple mounds of Crook-neck Squash seeds. Four have come up, but I'll need to do some thinning so we might end up with three plants. I also put in some pickling cucumber seeds but only one showed up, and he's in a big pot all to himself so I'm expecting great things!


In the second plot we have our herbs (or at least those that made it through the winter - the others are DEAD. No, really...they are completely DEAD). I think we have Sage, Thyme, some kind of Garlic and the Chocolate Mint Tea. When we were last in Mathews a guy was selling tomato starters in his front yard, so I put those in and they're doing well. Kristal started some Cilantro in some little pots and it was doing really well until today in the heat. We put in in the ground and watered it a bunch so hopefully it will make a comeback! Finally we have our Potato plot to the side of the house. I was worried that I had planted the potatoes too deep, but I just noticed that three have poked their heads above ground, and maybe more will follow. I don't know much about growing potatoes, but that patch of ground in the riches soil we have as it's always covered in clover, so it'll be interesting to see if it produces any spuds worth eating. Other small successes around the yard include the Rose bush and Hydrangea that I pruned. Too early for flowers yet, but I was just excited that they survived the process. We also have a pair of shrubs in the front bed that looked completely dead, but a few twigs put out leaves. I cut away all the dead wood, and they turned out looking really pretty. I think they are Pink Cloud bushes, Kolkwitzia amabilis.

I'm getting married in three months!

In exactly three months tomorrow I will be uttering very serious words of commitment to my fabulous fiancee. For those of you who like numbers and dates, tomorrow will also mark exactly 13 weeks until our wedding. We mark the anniversary of our first date on October 13th, so this month we celebrated two-and-a-half years together.
There is, of course, a website you can visit, although certain areas are password protected for invited guests only: you can't be too careful on the internet these days. However, if you really must cyber-stalk us, then I suggest you visit the blog which will have a blow-by-blow account of the planning process!

Many Cormorants

Many Cormorants, originally uploaded by evens.john.

I had the day off from work today. It feels like forever since the last time there was a holiday. Luckily the weather was nice so I took my mountain bike out for a ride. Normally I would throw the bike in the back of the truck, but I'm tired of doing that so I set off from home under pedal power. It's been a long time since I was last riding regularly because of all this damn running I've been doing, so now I'm paying the price for trying to do 35 miles on & off road. Still, I had fun for the first 25 miles!
I was cycling along the floodwall at one point and saw that every rock in the river was covered in Cormorants. It was an impressive sight so I pulled up to take a picture and notice a couple of Heron's standing close to the nearside bank. Then I saw another, and another, until one was spooked by my presence on the floodwall above them and no fewer than six Great Blue Herons took flight right in front of me, with another two standing their ground. In the small stretch of rapids there much have been at least a dozen of them.

DUI Guy

OK, the DUI Guy's insurance company has paid for everything, so I think I'm safe to post on the internet the details of his magical mystery tour into our front yard. On March 6th I was sitting on my couch watching some crappy TV when I heard a huge crash outside. I jump up and despite being in bare feet dash outside to see and SUV parked in my front yard and resting against my truck. I rush to the driver's door of the striken vehicle not sure if I'm going to have to administer first aid or corporal punishment. The front wing panel is sufficiently mangled that it takes some effort to pry it open, at which point this guy strumbles out mumbling, "I'm sorry, I messed up. I'm sooo drunk".


Well, I'm dumbfounded. I reach into the smokey cab (I think mostly the result of the air bag deploying). I don't remember if his car was still running, but for some reason I felt the need to take his keys out of the ignition! By this point Kristal has joined me outside and I tell her to call the cops. I'm trying to make sure DUI guy is not injured, but he has wondered across the street to talk to my neighbors. I soon realize why. The reason he arrived in our yard at all is because he first collided squarely with my neighbor's Cadillac which was parked in the street. After spinning the Caddy 100 degrees and shunting it 20 feet down the road, he's swerved towards out house, cleared our drainage ditch, cleaved several limbs from our Crepe Myrtle, mercilessly avoided out mailbox and continued up our driving way to his final resting place on the quarter-panel of my Tacoma.


Soon enough a police cruiser arrives. Then another. Followed by an officer in a SUV. This is standard operating procedure for Henrico cops, and I have always thought is was over kill. But actually, it takes three officers to take care of everything. The first guy on the scene gets the honor of making the arrest. The guy in the SUV is clearly the most senior, so he takes the easy job of directing the tow truck guy to tidy up the crash scene, and the poor junior officer runs around taking statements, exchanging insurance details and filing a report. His name was officer Stonestreet, and I'm sure I recognized him from somewhere, and I'd like to publicly say what a great job I thought he did.


Two or three weeks later the insurance company has finally got it's act together and I take my truck into the shop for minor repairs. They even pay for a rental car, which is nice, although I end up with this honkin' great Nissan!

Unimagined

I'm always interested to read or hear about the experiences of other Brits who have traveled to the USA for more than just a vacation. While browsing the BBC News website on Thursday, I spotted a magazine article entitled "Hello America, I'm a British Muslim". It was the story of a man named Imran Ahmad, who had written a book about his life as a Muslim living in the Western world. His family had moved from Pakistan to England when he was very young, and he'd also traveled extensively in America on business. Having recently been made redundant from his corporate day job, he seized upon the idea to follow up the launch of his book in the USA with a speaking tour, starting in Chicago and proceeding over the course of 50 days in a clockwise road trip, giving his talks at local Unitarian Universalist churches.


Out of curiosity, I followed the link to his website to see the locations and dates of his events, and it turned out that he was coming to Glen Allen on Saturday! It so happens that one of the offices he regularly visited on business is located right in Short Pump, so of course Richmond had to be on the list of stops.


The audience numbered about 25. Other than myself, the only visitors were a couple of Imran's previous colleagues, the rest being members of the local congregation. Still, the Unitarians are an accommodating lot. Imran came on and started talking in a rather despondent tone about the current tension between Muslims and the West. It would have been depressing had it not been for the interesting viewpoint that he offered. Growing up during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, he remembers the Muslims and the Christian West being on the same team, on the side of good, against the evil Godless Communists. It then came as a huge shock when in 2001 all that was forgotten and he found that now the Muslims were being characterized as the 'bad guys' by the West.


While interesting, the historical summary of geopolitics was really just a preamble to set a context for why Imran came to write a book. The main part of his talk centered on how he eventually persuaded himself to sit down and write, as well as the circuitous tale of how he finally got the book published an publicized. While his sense of humour was undoubtedly British in its self-deprecation, he certainly knew his audience in a way that few British entertainers would and had the whole room in fits of laughter at times. I may have been the only person who truly understood his quips regarding Ann Widdecombe, but other than that he cleverly explained critic terms so that we could all enjoy the punchline.


Interestingly the moral of his story of trying to get published was carefully but not obviously suited to the Unitarian Universalist mindset. On the speaking tour website he mentions that the events are not of a religious nature, and this was certainly true. I would say there is room to argue that not UU event is of a religious nature! Nonetheless, he spun a tale of an author initially focused on the potential for money and fame who, through a combination of good luck and sheer bravado, eventually becomes a published author but never achieves the fame and riches. However, he discovers that the real joy is in the creative process of writing, and also in the many friends and frankly unique experiences he has been blessed with as a result of writing the book. The on-a-whim tour of America is simply the latest mad adventure!

10K time

This morning was the Monument Avenue 10K, am I'm pleased to say I achieved my primary objectives of getting out of bed this morning and running from start to finish! Considering the preparation I managed this time around, anything else was going to be a bonus. I put in an unofficial time of just under 50 minutes, which is about a minute slower than my last attempt. The conditions were also more challenging this year. The roads were wet with puddles, and it was cool but humid. This time I found it harder to find a space to run in and so it took me longer to get in a rhythm. For the first time this year they required a qualifying time to be in the front starting waves. I think this put a lot of people further back than they wanted to be, so there was a lot more overtaking and it was a bit hectic. Anyway, enough with the excuses!

James River Scramble 1: Recon

There is now less than a week before the Monument Avenue 10K. For my final phase of training I am sticking to non-running cardio exercise, as I think I have the legs to run a decent time, but my pace will probably be determined by how hard I'm breathing! In that vein, I dusted off my mountain bike and went to survey the James River Scramble course.
The first thing I would like to say is that it feels like a lot further than 10K! Just the thought of running some of those sections is enough to scare a man. The second thing that struck me is that the trails are going to get pretty congested at certain points, what with 1250 runners crowding through there. I hope people are good natured because an over eager competitor could easily push someone off a cliff.


The start is harmless enough, although the first half click probably has more terrain than the entire Monument Ave race. It's smooth sailing over the Mayo Bridge, then the first real pain strikes shortly after in the form of the staircase up onto the flood wall. Thankfully running along the top of the floodwall provides another section a flat terrain. As if to make you pay for how easy you've had it so far, the course then heads straight up the side of an old railway embankment, kicknamed the 'Mayan Ruins'.


At this point there is a slight reprieve as you come out on Riverview Drive for a while, then across the railway, down the spiral staircase and onto another flat section of fireroad. I've just realised I misread the map when i was out on the trail. I had thought the course took in a section of Buttermilk trail, which would have been lethal, but actually it loops back on the footpaths next to the river. This way you come out on the rocks to the South-West of Belle Isle and have to rock-hop to get over to the island. Therein lies probably the worst section of the course, on the interior of Belle Isle. "Gnarly" is the only way to describe it! You'd have thought it would be smooth running back to the Start/Finish line, but I have no doubt the undulating footbridge under Robert E Lee will claim some casualties.

Sheeps!

The lambs have hatched at Meadow Farm, so of course we had to go take a look. They must have had a busy lambing season, as there were probably close to two-dozen lambs altogether. Head on over to my Flickr for the entire set (Kristal was behind the camera and took a multitude of shots).

Asland Coffee & Tea

It seems as though the best times in life occur almost by accident. It has been a long week for both of us and we couldn't wait to unwind on Friday night. Kristal suggested we go up to Ashland for dinner and some drinks. It's a cute town with a lot of character, as the railway line passes right down the high street. Living in Glen Allen, we're really very close to Ashland, but it feels much more like the country.


We decided to dine at the Smokey Pig, a BBQ joint on Route 1 that we have often driven past with curiosity. As one would expect, it was a friendly place serving good, honest food. One item on the menu was slightly unusual, which was the apple puppies. Of course I had to order them! They turned out to resemble hush puppies (fried dough balls) but the batter was sweeter and included finely chopped apple. They were served covered in a lemon sauce than strongly reminded me of lemon meringue pie filling. In any case, they were a bit sweet, in my opinion, to be served as a side to the main course, so I saved them to the end of the meal!


After dinner we headed on in to the center of Ashland with the intention of have a drink or two at Ashland Coffee & Tea. As the name suggests, it is a coffee and tea shop, with sofas and books and the comfortable atmosphere that Starbucks wishes it had. The adjoining room, however, is the famous 'listening room', a distictive music venue where we hoped to catch a decent band. As luck would have it we arrived exactly as the show was about to start. The entertainment for the night was provided by a bluegrass outfit called Some Assembly Required. I thought they did a fine job, especially the banjo player who had mad banjo skills, and the mandolin player who had some funny stories up his sleeve. The beers of choice turned out to be from an German organic brewery called Pinkus. I enjoyed a bottle of their Jubilate Lager, and then their Pilsner. All in all a very relaxing evening, without hardly planning at all.

My Nipples Hurt

Is that an over-share? Hey, at least there are no photographs accompanying this post! I could take one right now if you like? Actually, it is only my right nipple that is slightly sore. The Monument Avenue 10k is in two weeks, so there is no respite from the training, even on a rainy Saturday morning. Nipple chafing was inevitable. I completed my 8.2km circuit in light, steady rain, clocking a time of 41 minutes. I had hoped to be on track to break my personal record of 48 minutes but I never quite got going with the training until the end of February. Really the Monument Avenue is my warm up event to participating in the James River Scramble this year. If I am able to complete that event I will happily retire from my brief running career. It's bad for the knees. After that I will only run to compete in a Triathalon, but that would require me to learn how to swim! I mean, I can stop myself from drowning, but covering 1500m is beyond my body's propensity to sink like a stone. Anyway, hopefully my nipple will recover in time to resume training and put in a good time on race day. I hope to blog my Scramble training, so watch this space.

Birdwatching

We've had a bird feeder in the front yard since we moved in. You might think the birds would be at risk from the large population of neighbourhood cats, but so far I haven't any frisky felines try to grab a snack. Barry, I know, is far too slow to ever sneak up on anything more alert than a dead twig. I'd expect the new kitten from next door to have a go, but he has extra toes so maybe they get in the way when hunting!

I have finally given in to my curiosity to know what all the different nondescript little brown bird are that frequent our feeder. Now, anyone from my family will tell you that I hold a fairly dim view of bird classification. I enjoy spotting birds, but if I can't tell you what it's called, that's fine by me. A bird is a bird, and they are marvelous to watch without naming them. But like I say, after a year my curiosity has gradually grown and now I would at least like to have some idea of how many different types of bird we have in the area.

It starts out easy. The bright red ones, with the black face, orange beak and sharp haircut? That's a (Northern) Cardinal and since it's the State bird, it would be a cardinal sin for me not to know it! Straight away we run into the first pitfall of bird watching, because the brown ones? Also Cardinals, but they're the ladies or the kids! Still, the distinctive tuft is enough to single them out, and the bright beak is another strong clue.

Next up the Blue Jay. Another crested variety, it's showy personality makes it easy to spot. These guys are never shy and tend the throw their weight around. The only other bird about the same size as the first two is the (Northern) Mockingbird. The poor Mockingbird is easy to ignore, dressed in a rather dull gray, but the white flashes as it flies makes it a cinch to ID.

Once we get on to the smaller species I have to say I start to struggle. Sure, from the pictures in the book it looks like it should be a piece of cake to tell them apart, but out there on the feeder, flitting back and forth between the trees, never sitting still, never exposing the perfect left profile for comparison to the plate it's another matter. Before long, I start picking out dark caps, breasts, wing bars and so on. Then it is a case of leafing through the bird book attempting to locate a drawing with all the features present. Unfortunately I have no idea how they ordered the plates. I mean, I've narrowed it down to the garden birds section, and then I would've expected them to go in size order, but apparently this is not how it's done.

Despite this frustrating lack of logic, I reckon I have positively identified a House Sparrow, a White Throated Sparrow, a Dark Eyed (Slate Colored) Junco, a House Finch, and some kind of Chickadee (I think probably the Carolina variety). We also have a Red-bellied Woodpecker in the area. These birds are all, of course, exceedingly common, but in a time when garden birds are said to be have a hard time I'm glad we see so many.

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Update: Still no Grackles but the Brown-headed Cowbirds have arrived en-masse. The Woodpecker turned out to have a friend, so there's two of them. We saw a Bluebird (very exciting) and we also have a pair of Mourning Doves in residence.

Snow Day

2712, originally uploaded by evens.john.

It started snowing late in the afternoon on Sunday. Really big flakes of the stuff that were settling right away. As far as we can tell it snowed all night and was still going this morning. We woke up to find the world blanketed in a soft layer of white cold. The best thing of all: work was closed due to (as they say around here) 'inclement weather'! I was really happy to get the extra lie-in this weekend.
I can never make up my mind whether I like snow or not. I'll have to admit I acted like a bit of a kid at times today, running and jumping in the snow. I mean, this stuff was piled up so thick but so powdery and soft it was like being in a padded cell or something. I also enjoyed some manly activities like shoveling snow of the driveway, even though I only had a 1' x 3' piece of chipboard for the task.
In the end, though, I was boring and spent some time doing some filing, organising my online identity and generally getting around to that menial, low priority stuff which normally falls of the bottom of my to-do list at the weekend.

FiOS

This post is coming to you from a super-fast Fiber Optic internet connection. It won't make things any quicker at your end, I know, but hopefully me having faster upload times will encourage me to post more frequently, more imaginatively and with more photos. Lets start by recalling the process of having FiOS installed.


The 3Mbps down and 1Mbsp up I was getting with DSL was probably sufficient for my needs, but then Verizon screwed up my account and I got stuck with 768Kbps which really sucked. Then my landline inexplicably packed in and I decided it was time to upgrade to the 21st century. I canceled all my previous Verizon services and signed up for FiOS online. I was pleasantly surprised to find that a technician was available two days later to come set up the service. He arrived right in the middle of his allotted window, at 3pm. I showed him around the house and he seemed to think it would be a simple job getting me hooked up.


The thing with FiOS is that they don't tell you about all the hardware you're going to need until you already confirmed your order. The next thing you know, you get an email that explains what you have to do before the technician arrives. This includes running Verizon's virus and spyware scanner on your PC, and also finding a location in your home for the terminal power source. You see, the Optical Network Terminal (ONT) they install has to plug into a regular three-pronged outlet. This turns out to be a tricky proposition since the obvious place to put the ONT is where your existing telephone terminal is, but since telephone don't need a power supply, the telephone terminals usually aren't conveniently located near an outlet. I get the feeling that how smoothly your installation goes depends on how inventive your technician is. I sussed out the situation a little beforehand, and with my suggestion and his ingenuity, we came to an easy solution that looked like it would work well.


Dude set to work installing the power supply and battery backup in our bedroom closet. He did a really nice job of stapling the power cord to the base board and up to the outlet. That accomplished be went out and installed the ONT on the back wall. I was quite impressed that he took the old AT&T terminal off, since the evidence suggested that all previous technicians had left old, obsolete hardware in place. He used an existing Coaxial run to get from the ONT to the router. I realized too late that the router didn't need to be in the bedroom as well, but dude had seen the coax there and I guess jumped at the chance to make the install job as easy as possible for himself.


Once it was all hooked up, we connected my laptop to the router with an Ethernet cable and begun the software side of the installation. Dude plugged a USB dongle in to run the setup program. I respected the fact that the technician unselected most of the dumb stuff that Verizon tries to install on your computer at this point. It went really smoothly, and the router comes WEP enabled so that reduces the hassle of trying to set up wireless security yourself. Once the internet connection was up and running the job was done and dude went on his merry way. I made sure to ask some ambiguous questions about what would happen if certain items were powered down, just so I could play around with them if I wanted. This morning I moved the router to my office, which involved opening the ONT and swapping over the coax. I had to go under the house to find the right cord, and was shocked to discover that dude had screwed my crawlspace hatch shut. Not only that, but he had snipped off the head of the screw, making it virtually impossible for me to open the hatch. I don't know if this is common practice, but it pissed me off. In the process of trying to open the door, I snapped the handle off, but in the end my tenacity and a variety of levers got me in.


I was very please to find that once I hooked everything back up and powered on the router, my connection was instantly restored. All my other experience with cable company-supplied router is that they are totally unreliable. Verizon supplied the Actiontec MI424, which I've never heard of, and is kinda big and ugly, but as long as it works. I can probably find someone to give my old D-link router to.

New Flag

The year is 2009 CE. Virginia is entirely occupied by the Americans. Well, not entirely...one (very) small village of an indomitable Brit still holds out against the revolutionaries.


Just call me Mykingdomforanos.


The flag that Kris bought me for my one year anniversary in the States was beginning to show it's age. Sun, wind and rain had put a serious dent in the color intensity. Plus I invested in these clever anti-furl flag holders that are meant to rotate all the way around the pole. But the dowel became swollen by moisture and the free rotation was lost. The flag would wrap around the pole, snag on the wing nut on the bracket and start to tear. So, it was time for a new one. The old flag has been retired to our tool cupboard, where it now helps hide the hot water tank.

Marine Corps Training Exercise

I've been meaning to post these photos for a while now. They were taken from outside my house on January 11th. For several days these scary looking aircraft would come skimming over the trees in pairs. One day they came over for three consecutive passes, right over our house! In fact, I saw them all over the city. You'd here them long before you ever saw them, particularly given the low altitudes they were flying at. Unfortunately I never had my camera ready at the best moments but still got a few shots. I later heard that some kind of Marine Corps training exercise was going on in the area, which makes sense given the models of aircraft involved.


The first picture is a rather distant but beautifully framed shot of a Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion. It's the largest helicopter in the US Military inventory, and is used by the Marine Corps as a heavy lift helicopter. I was disappointed not to see it flying over with a M198 Howitzer slung underneath, but I guess there are some safety concerns when operating over friendly residential areas.


The second aircraft pictured in a V-22 tiltrotor aircraft. These things are scary to behold, I think because they can drone around at low altitude like a helicopter, then tilt the rotors forward and take off over the horizon like a regular aeroplane. The Marines use the MV-22 variant, and were the first to deploy them in combat in Iraq.

Bass Pro Shops

Recently opened near Ashland is Richmond's new Bass Pro Shops store. While it is essentially just another store for outdoor activities with an emphasis on fishing and hunting, we had heard that it also had quite the theme park atmosphere going on. In other words, despite the fact that we had no interests in buying any outdoor equipment, it was worth going to take a look around simple for the entertainment factor.


You know something is different when you have to go through a turnstile at the main entrance. At least they don't charge an entry fee! We arrived around lunchtime, so decided to have a bite to eat at the attached Islamoranda Fish Restaurant. There was a short wait for a table and we begun to browse the store. Its really a Mecca for all that's tacky about rednecks. I don't have a problem with the redneck lifestyle. Nor do I even object to 'weekend rednecks' who live in the city but go huntin' and fishin' in their spare time. But neither group really has any need for recliner furniture upholstered with forest camouflage print fabric! But then you knew the chain dedicated to the commercialization of outdoor activities when you saw the alcove dedicated to NASCAR.


Lunch was very pleasant. The dining room had a huge reef-themed fish tank (although the coral fake) which helped you forget that the view out the window was I-95. I got a Smoked Wahoo Wrap, although I still have no idea what a wahoo is. After lunch took a closer look at the main attraction of the store, a huge indoor freshwater pond full of local varieties of fish, complete with cascading waterfall that comes down from the ceiling. The pond is built above the floor with a plexiglass front so you can see all the fish, and every so often a member of staff does a quick educational session about the different species.


Next we headed upstairs to check out the camping section, which is all we would seriously be interested in. Unfortunately they don't really cater to real outdoors types. The first thing you are confronted with is their range of huge gas and charcoal grills, fryers and other cooking equipment. It's all ridiculous technology that is in no way easily portable - more for the type of people that go camping out the back of their F-150. The only thing we saw that we liked was a two person kayak.
For the fun of it we wandered over to the hunting section. I'll admit it: I like to look at guns and fantasize that I have some legitimate use for one in my life. In fact, not just one, but several, such that I would need a $3000 gun safe in my office for my extensive arsenal. But I don't, so I have to be content with watch other people who don't need guns try to buy one despite having no criteria for choosing a weapon other than which one looks the coolest. Or on the case of one gentleman, without the proper ID. "Don't worry" says the salesman, "We'll get you squared away".

Stem Meme

In the news today the possibility that President Obama may reverse his predecessor's ban on stem cell research. I considered writing a piece on the science behind stem cell research and the possibilities that would open up if and when the ban is removed. But another story caught my eye, that Geron, a biotech company in the US, has been given approval by the FDA to proceed with a clinical trial treating paralyzed patients with stem cells. What really stood out for me was that the proposal document was approximately 21,000 pages long. The BBC reports that this is the largest application on record.


Herein lies a challenge for scientific progress, as the boundaries of research stretch into ever more complex territory. I would contend that most of the controversies science is facing, in the fields of stem cell research, climate change, evolutionary biology and other, emerge because the topics are so complex that most contributors to the debate are barely able to scratch the surface of understanding. I could have written a short piece about the possible benefits of extensive stem cell research, but in order to summarize such a complicated subject, the facts necessarily become watered down.


Clearly scientific progress in the modern era relies on public support, which in turn requires that the public have some understanding of what they are supporting. But is this feasible? Obviously good communication between the science lab is key. When, though, is someone completing the arduous education required to practice stem cell biology expected to find the time to also become a master communicator?


Ultimately, with such a large public body to communicate to, memes become a vital tool. A meme is a package on knowledge in the same way that a gene is a package of genetic information. Memes are replicated when one person tells another, and like genes, they are subject to 'natural selection'. Successful memes become an ubiquitous part of our culture. For example, everyone knows that Neil Armstrong said "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind" as he set foot on the moon. This meme is successful because of the inspirational nature of the message, because the words are cleverly arranged, but simple and because of the way it has been communicated: that video clip of the man in a space suit, complete with the beeps and whistles of the comm system.


Memes, like genes, are also prone to random mutations. People make mistakes when they re-tell the story, or deliberately change the facts to make the story more appealing. The success of a meme has nothing to do with how true it is, only how well it is spread throughout a group of people, and eventually the entire population of a country of the world. Think of the show Mythbusters, who every week deal with successful memes that often turn out to have no basis in fact. Richard Dawkins, who coined the phrase 'meme', contends that religion is the most successful meme of all human history, and in his opinion, is completely false.


Back to stem cell research, how can the researchers control the stem cell memes that proliferate? Is there some way to selectively breed a meme that is not only robust and successful, but also true!? Unfortunately, sound scientific knowledge isn't easily transfected into a popular meme. Scientific fact is not usually catchy, universally inspirational or expressed accurately in a poetic form. We shall have to see how the population of memes changes now that the POTUS looks set to throw his support behind this valuable and interesting line of research.