Category Archives: Biking

Superb Owl Weekend

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Two Great Horned Owlets

We went to a potluck dinner party. This event was originally scheduled for tonight, but then someone realized when the big game was. Bill and Mary, our usual hosts had convened another meeting of Team Kaldis, our longtime charity bicycle team. The team is still active, though most of us in attendance are not. We have all turned old and grey. Catching up with each other, last May’s tornado was discussed. Where we were dining and where many of us live was along its path. We were all fortunate. One member had been cycling in Forest Park as the storm approached and had to ride into the storm to get home. Another perennial topic these days was a memoriam for team members who are no longer with us.

Last night, our culinary offering was a salad, persimmons and pomegranates, a NY Times recipe, with ingredients from our local Schnucks. Many at that party shop at this same store and opinions varied. Compared to the Schnucks that it replaced, it represents a big improvement, but time has not been kind to the place. Gone is the live trout tank. Further west this store is both dwarfed and out shone by newer and larger stores in the chain. My store still outsells all the rest. Perched above the food desert that is the City of Saint Louis, it no longer requires a holiday of a snowstorm to fill the parking lot. This winter, I have had opportunity to be impressed twice with its produce department. Last November, it stocked fresh rhubarb from the Netherlands, so that Harry could have his pie. And in January, I just bought fresh persimmons and a pomegranate from Spain. “She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts, kid.”

Persimmon and Pomegranate Salad

Meskerem

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Yesterday after visiting the gardens, we went to the Ethiopian restaurant Meskerem on South Grand. There we enjoyed its excellent and authentic traditional Ethiopian cuisine. This restaurant is named after the first month of the Ethiopian calendar. It is the most favored month in Ethiopia because it ends the three month long rainy season and begins a new year marked by sunny and pleasant weather. Meskerem is a symbol of new beginning, new life, joy and renewal of hope for all people. 

Anne ordered their Yebege Alecha Wat. Tender pieces of lamb marinated with Ethiopian spiced butter then sautéed with ginger, garlic, and curry. I had Tibs N’ Quosta, sautéed beef mixed with Quosta (spinach slowly simmered with onions, garlic, ginger, and tomatoes), onions and green peppers. Both dishes were served on two-foot diameter plates, lined with injera, a sour fermented pancake-like flatbread with a slightly spongy texture, made with teff flour.

Anne also ordered a spiced tea, and I had their Ethiopian coffee, which was served with burning incense. We have experience with Ethiopian coffee from our Team Kaldi’s days. Kaldi was the legendary Ethiopian shepherd who first discovered coffee, when he noticed that goats who ate the berries from this one plant were energized and began prancing and dancing up the mountainside.

Traditionally, Ethiopia was Christian as the pictured iconography implies, with Judo-Christian ties dating back to Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. Ethiopia is still home to many ancient Christian sites. We found our brief afternoon visit with their culture delightful and look forward to returning. 

The World’s Greatest Grandpa

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The World’s Greatest Grandpa

Ron was a devout man. He was a good man. He was my friend. We were bicycle buddies. He was one of the Ons: Don, Ron and John. These were guys that I regularly rode with and who would call home, while I was still at work. Teenage David, home alone, would answer the phone and tell them that I was not yet home. When I did get home, I would ask Dave if anyone had called. He would always answer that one of the Ons had called. I would be left to figure out which one.

Yesterday, Anne and I attended Ron’s memorial service. It was an open casket affair. I hate those. His funeral is today, but I do not plan on attending. Anne cautioned me about this decision, “You know, it you don’t go to Ron’s funeral, he probably won’t come to yours.” Ron had Parkinsons and he died from complications of his treatment for that disease.

A week ago, Ron’s daughter called me, to tell me her father’s death. I got the word out and there was a good showing of other bicyclists. In addition to John, there was Tony, both former coworkers of mine at Control Data. Sandi and Chris also came. I realized later that we had obtained quorum for the former TWA MS-150 bicycle team. Sandi was team captain and the rest of us rode for the team. Don was also on this team, and he then went on to found Kaldi’s bicycle team.

2025 Clayton Art Fair

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Anne’s Entourage

On Saturday, we attended the Clayton art fair. It was a beautiful day, sunny, not to hot and not too cold. This is a relatively small art fair, about five blocks of booths. It is juried and the art is expensive. The few artists that we discussed this with, thought highly of this fair. For them it is a money maker. We got there early and had a jump on the crowds for a while. This allowed us to command the attention of the pictured balloon festooned minstrels and get a photo with them. How does she get that blue dress on? At the far end of the fair, we grabbed lunch at Herbie’s, an eatery that is usually too slammed to even get a table at.

For years, we missed this art fair, because it always coincided with the Bike MS charity ride. In the past, we committed to that event instead. We are older now and this year, we have travelled too much to participate in that ride. Last week, we attended a Team Kaldis dinner party, where we got together again with some old bike buddies. At that dinner, for remembrances sake, we played a video that was produced for the 2011 ride. It is a very well-done movie. Although the team still persists, looking back that year was probably its high point.

DJ

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Captain Don, DJ and Anne

Yesterday, we had a pre-roadtrip field trip. Anne and I and Edie and Ron drove west to visit DJ, our old friend. DJ is in a home now, after becoming too much for her daughter to handle. This is doubly sad, because I came to know her as the paramour and eventual caretaker of my old friend Don, who died of Alzheimer’s. I’m not sure if she remembered us. She certainly didn’t remember our names, but over the course of our visit she seemed to come back to us, at least a little bit. Her home is a small affair, about seventy residents, almost all women. I guess that this is a cup that I shall not drink from.

Many of the residents were quiet, almost comatose, but a few were active. One woman came up to us and angrily asked us to leave, because this was her home. Another woman carried a baby doll wrapped in a blanket. She did this so lovingly, I kept checking to see if the baby was real. It was obviously real to her. We spoke of old times and old bike rides. I recalled the time that DJ and Don first met and other elements of their early courtship. We all had stories to tell and through it all DJ listened. She didn’t speak much, but she did seem to smile more. Time flew, but eventually it was time to leave.