Bridges, Terra Firma, and Why I Kind of Sucked Today

What I missed

The inaugural Newport Pell Bridge Run here in Rhode Island took place this morning. Not only did I not run the race, but I didn’t even have decency to wake up early to cheer on my room mates and a bunch of other friends who were running this epic course.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Pell Bridge, you have to understand this: it’s a beautiful drive over one of the most picturesque bays in the country. If you’re travelling east over the bridge, which was the direction the race ran this morning, the view offers up the Newport skyline, which is studded with historic church steeples, trees and colonial era houses. Not to mention the view of Narragansett Bay, with it’s islands and currents and reflections of the sun and the sky. It’s all very stunning.

It’s also important to note that this is the first time pedestrians have been allowed to cross the bridge in 30 years.

Did I also mention that today was the most beautiful November day that I’ve ever seen?

And where was I? I was in bed, snuggling with “Pumpkin” (the cat), while 3,000 way-smarter-than-me people got to experience the epic view and awesome weather. What. The. Fuck. Was. I. Thinking?

I guess I was thinking of my fear of heights. I used to rock climb in Utah with out the slightest fear. Now I get up on a step ladder and start to sweat. I thought I was so hilarious last week when I told Weather Girl that I’m too afraid of heights but that I’d be taking pictures of her from terra firma. But I didn’t even come through on that promise. I did however have dreams that I was at the finish line cheering my friends on. Does that not count for anything?

I was also thinking of my fully booked weekend, and how desperately I needed to catch up on sleep. Both of these lines of thought just seem silly in retrospect. I drive this bridge twice a day, and I’m not that afraid of heights, unless we’re talking 30,000 feet in an airplane. Also, there is this thing called “napping” that I just discovered actually works well for situations like this.

So why did I only kind-of-suck today? Because I walked 4.5 very fast miles, had an awesome brunch at Sapo, drank a Bloody Mary, and bought some new boots. Also, I realized the mistake I’d made in missing the race and vowed to do it next year. So that takes some of the suckage away, right?

More Food, Less Pain,

Beer. Honey. Shame.

Listening to the bees

This morning I exclaimed to Weather Girl “I can’t believe I dropped that jar of honey in the middle of that event last night!”

Her reply? “You can’t?”

Very funny Weather Girl. She knows better than anyone else how clumsy and awkward I can be.

The honey incident happened at a tasting at Coastal Extreme Brewing Company. It was the launch of their “11”, a signature beer they brew each once a year. This years’ brew was a collaborative effort by a group of Rhode Island brewers, and they honored our little state by using locally sourced hops and honey in this batch. It’s even reddish in color, to honor our state bird, the Rhode Island Red Rooster.

The “11” is a big beer – 11.7% alcohol by volume, but you wouldn’t know that when you taste it. It is balanced, a little sweet but appropriately so. It has a bit of oak to it, which comes from the fact that it’s aged in the same barrels they age their Thomas Tew Rum. I loved it, and plan to give some as gifts this holiday season, and drink a few too.

The tasting was so fun. I met new people and ran into old friends, like Jeff “The Beeman” Mello. His Aquidneck Island Honey was one of the key ingredients in the “11”, so he was there to promote it and enjoy the brews. Jeff is an easygoing guy who is doing great work. After chatting for a bit, he gave me a jar of honey. As a gift. For no reason. Because he’s nice like that. I love his honey and was in need of a new jar, so I felt very appreciative of the gesture.

So appreciative that I proceeded to drop the glass jar of honey on the cement floor of the crowded tasting room.

Sorry Jeff!

It was not my sexiest moment. But not surprising to those who know me.


But like I said, Jeff is easygoing and he helped me feel some relief from the utter embarrassment by helping me clean up the sticky mess. I felt terrible about wasting such a precious thing – I know how hard Jeff and the bees work to make this amazing honey. But he urged me not to worry about it.

Then he gave me another jar. Which I totally did not deserve, but awkwardly, as ever, accepted.

More food, less pain,

Guy Fawkes

The preparations are in full swing. The fire pit is being prepared. The kitchen is stocked with weird British ingredients. The cooler is stocked with enough beer for 50 times 10. The totally legal fireworks are sitting patiently, awaiting lighters and clear skies.

It’s Guy Fawkes Night in Great Britain. And since Weather Girl married The Welshman, we are obligated to celebrate.

Instead of giving you an explanation, I’ll do two things instead. First, here is a link to a blog called Crumpets in Camelot. I just found through this NaBloPoMo thing. I love it, and the post she did on Guy Fawkes is funny and sums it up perfectly.

The next thing I’ll do is a post tomorrow on how the food and festivities went.

Until then, feast your eyes on this ridiculousness.

The Welshman’s pants are ALWAYS this tight.

More food, less pain,

More Food, More Pain. Compliments of NaBloPoMo

NaBloPoMo is short for National Blog Posting Month. It is basically a bunch of bloggers who agree to update their blog daily for one month. The idea is that by doing so you’ll improve your writing and help to grow your blog.

This month I’ll be taking on this challenge. Though a little bit daunting, I like the idea. I’m finally grown up enough to understand that if you do something every day to strengthen a skill or habit, you do get better at it. Duh. Mostly, I plan to try and enjoy the process and to be ready and willing to take on the inevitable internal struggle it might cause me from time to time.

For those of you that love the dating/relationship stories, I’ll do my best to bring the awkward. some awkward. I’ll find someone to awkward double hug. Or maybe another chain smoking drunk guy will fall in love with me on our fist date (please God no.) There’s bound to be another guy asking me to dance again, even after I insist that “dancing is not a good look for me.”

For those of you that love the food stuff, I’ll have plenty of fodder for that. November brings with it wine classes (attending and teaching), then there’s Guy Fawkes bonfire night with the Brits. Oh, and mashed potato day Thanksgiving.

Since I work 40 hours a week, work out most days and actually keep up a decent social life, most of the posts will probably be short, which is something I’ve been meaning to start doing anyhow. Of course I don’t expect you’ll read them all. That’s not the point really, but I do hope you’ll enjoy the journey with me. And hopefully we’ll have some good food and good laughs together soon.

More food, less pain,