When I was much younger my mother used to beak gingerbread and we'd spend some real quality time decorating it with candied fruit, nuts and icing. I remember thinking that the icing she made was so cool... it was 1) an incredible glue and 2) perfect for making icicles.

Well a few days ago Shelley got this authentic German gingerbread house kit and Wednesday evening Cameron and us put it together.

The icing was one egg white (beaten), as much powdered sugar as you wanted until the consistency was right and then a few drops of lemon juice for extra stickiness. It was surprising how easy it was to make and it was also surprising how many memories of my Mom came back just from whisking a damn egg white.

Anyway, I can't wait to eat this!

I also can't wait until I start using my digital camera instead of my phone to take pictures - man is that a ghetto shot.

Sometimes, after years of not finding what you want you come across it in the strangest way.

I was riding the bus home today and grabbed a copy of The Stranger to read on the trip. Now I love ads, often they are far more interesting than the articles in any magazine. So as I'm paging though the latest issue I saw a cool, little  black and white line drawing of an ad and promptly checked it out when I got home. It was for swrve cycling clothing. And they rock.

Ever ridden your bike in jeans? It bites. Seams rub you in all the wrong places, they bind and you have to roll them up so you don't coat them in grease or snag them in your chain and launch your self over the bars. And when your work place is close enough to home to make putting on the official cycling clown suite a humongous hassle I'm always looking for the perfect "ride to work and then still be able to wear it without looking like a fool" outfit.

I'm going to ask Santa for a pair of knickers for Christmas!

The half marathon is 6 days away. I've set the bar fairly low in an attempt to totally impress myself. In other words, my whole life philosophy. However, this weekend I felt excellent out on my long run Sunday despite freezing my nibs off and running for my life from a Ted Bundy look-alike (I think it was all that Thanksgiving Reading I did. Nothing like boning up on "The Stranger Beside Me" tucked all warm and tidy in your isolated cabin in the woods). I feel a touch of a sore throat coming on but my remedy for that will be total denial. Lots of juice, a vitamin and denial, people. That's the ticket. After all this, there is no way in H -E - double hockey sticks that I'm not going to claw my way across the finish line. There's going to be running Elvis' for crapsake. Elvi. Running. Can you even imagine the amount of chaffing that scenario entails? All the Bodyglide in the world is not enough. Lord love'em. And I will be there. If a wig-sporting, jumpsuit and jogging shoe wearing Elvis impersonator can do it, so can I.

Today while at the gym I saw him again. He's about 50 something years old and in pretty good shape really but...

• He always wears these hilarious black Tommy Bahama Fisherman Sandals instead of tennis shoes.

• All his shirts are really tight... Not so hot especially when your waist is not exactly like that of the Bowflex spokesperson.
• Although not a requirement for self-obsessed old gym prima dona, this guy is really, really hairy and obviously pretty proud of it based on the tight, v-neck shirts he wears.
• He spends as much time fixing his hair in the mirror as he does working out.
• His hair style of choice is classic John Travolta meaning it's HUGE, is incapable of existing without a blow dryer and requires lots of maintenance. Thank goodness he's up to that task.
• His hair, he keeps making sure every one is perfectly in place...
• Since it's all about him, of course he never re-racks his weights.
• Since it's all about how much you can lift, his form is atrocious.
• Since it's about chest and arms, well, he never does much of anything else. In fact, come to think of it, chest and arms are ALL I ever see him do.
• What's with the hair...? Enough already. You're at the gym and it's 5:30 in the morning! Who cares?
• He tans massively. Obsessively. Ridiculously. Two words: leather man. Two more: it's winter. Two more: nut bag.

About the only missing characteristic is an overpowering cologne but I have not been close enough to smell anything. That's a good thing I'm thinking.

Forget that plastic, wildly inaccurate, hard to calibrate pedometer you are carrying around - just remember where you went and then look up the distance on Gmaps Pedometer when you're done!

All it takes is a couple of clicks (or a few hundred if you went a really long distance) and bingo - you have your distance. Actually, you only have to plot half of your walk/run if you go for and out-and-back route.

You can even export the route as an external link which you can send to your friends to share.

The only bummer is you can only zoom in as far as Google Maps will let you so your route might not be exactly the same as the distance you traveled. But pretty damn close I'll wager.

Nice.

I am always needing to paste in code on my training diary and now it's super easy with the Text Template plug-in. You can name your templates and save them locally and anytime you want to use them there they are.

Nice.

I just found out that going to San Juan Island for Thanksgiving is a family tradition that started in 1970! Oh man, I had no idea... And you know, I can't readily think of a year that we have missed.

Some history - Bill used to have a position in the Department of Oceanography at the University of WA and this department owns the Friday Harbor Laboratories so it was an easy in. My parents liked it so much we kept coming and now it's 2007.

Here are the pictures.

This batch was taken on 22 November and are mostly of the four of us on the beach out by the American camp. The last couple of years Lucca has taken to building these enormous teeter totters. Two years ago we discovered that you can balance a board across one end of the teeter and markedly increase the danger factor. Of course that is now also a tradition.

On 23 November we went to the Westcott Bay Sculpture Park up by Roche Harbor. This place is pretty spectacular! Not only is it huge and does it contain about 100 sculptures but some of them are really interesting. One theme seems to moving parts. When the wind blows these movable pieces do some amazing things. And no material is off limits it seems, we saw pieces made of the traditional bronze, marble and granite and also pieces made of string and flags and even a bridge. I recommend you check it out.

Ever do something really stupid, realize it's really stupid and keep right on doing it? Right, me neither.

So here we are enjoying pretty much the only family tradition we have - going to Friday Harbor for Thanksgiving. This place is a research lab and along with cabins and apartments and a cafeteria and a dock and research vassals and and even row boats you can use and a day care facility now this place has Internet access. It used to be you had to go to the library and fire up one of the computers there but now they have wireless networks as well, two even. This morning I got online no problem; now I can't.

So what do I do? I keep trying. And waiting. And trying again.

The access points I was seeing this morning are not showing up at the moment and seeing as it's a holiday, they might just be turned off. But I keep sitting here, pretending to read magazine and stuff but really I keep clicking the refresh button on my wireless radio.

It's a sad state of affairs.

Oh I brought books. And I tried to build a fire (but I failed and Lucca had to take over), but what I really want is to [insert some lame reason here] online.

Okay, I love my bike(s). I have dreamed about them, resolved major moral dilemmas while riding them and asked girls out while on one. But no way would I ever consider going this far.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/glasgow_and_west/7095134.stm

Sadly, I used to be that guy... You know, the one that wears shorts way too long in the fall (or even the winter!) and who just can't roll with the seasons. It might be in the low 40s or even the upper 30s but they have on shorts.

Why? I wish I knew. Anyone who has traveled to Europe or most any other country will quickly discover that one sure-fire way to tell the tourists from the locals is to check what they are sporting below the waist. Shorts = tourist. All the time. I was in Rome, Italy once and it was quite warm, maybe 80 degrees and NO one had on shorts. Not even the college students, it's just not what you do.

America seems unique in these aspects; we all worried about being thin, tan and sporty. In other parts of the world it seems that people are accepted more for who they are. Not that there aren't divas in every country mind you, but if you had to paint with broad strokes America is freakville and any other place is normal. Don't we have the largest supplement and diet industry and don't we have the most obese people per capita? Freakville USA.

Anyway, there I am, walking to work a few days ago on the University of Washington campus. It's butt-ass [I love how you can put two words that mean the same thing together and it more clearly conveys the meaning] cold out, windy and here comes that guy. He's got on not only shorts but freakin' flip-flops. Oh sure, he has several layers covering his torso but what's with the shorts? You just know this guy never changes looks; ever. EVER. One outfit for all times, it's not only sensible but economical!

Not to be outdone buy this fashion-rutted guy, here comes an equally ignorant girl in the same outfit! You just know they are 1) freshman and 2) yet to have a real job.

Did I mention I used to be that guy...? Oh yes, I'm not getting off that easy. I recall one time when I was on a date in the middle of winter maybe 17 years ago, we went to get a beer and there was snow on the ground outside. What did I wear? Shorts. Jesus Christ.

I do not recall how I justified this outfit at the time, most likely I did not even think about it. And that's the problem - these people don't think. How many fashion faux pas could we avoid if we just stopped to think, even for a second. Is it so wrong to put on long pants if it's cold outside? Or if you are going to an event where it's not socially acceptable to wear jams?

You are either part of the problem or part of the solution.