Droogs: Assemble the Durango

TEAM FISH is now up to three riders. My brother Pat is in, saying he is going to ride the 70 mile loop. Pat was part of the original Team Fish and has ridden this every year with me. The fact that he is doing the evnt after the recent birth of his twins has me even more stoked than normal. I think we should put them in baskets on the front of our bikes, but somehow I don't see his wife, being the more sensible type, allowing it. Still, though....


Additionally, my buddy Kurt, is in for his third consecutive year. Readers of this blog and followers of the event might recall The Epic Strudel War, between Kurt and I. This year I plan on laying off the strudel...starting tomorrow.

If you want to join us, you can CLICK HERE: we'd love to have you.

Training Ride

What is it like on a Fish training ride? If you're a rider, I suspect a lot of this is going to sound familiar, in one way, shape or form. If you're not a rider, perhaps this will give you a little insight. Or, at least a frame of reference. Or leave you scratching your head.

Mile 0
I rode out of the driveway and did the loop up to the top of my neighborhood. About 300 yards into the ride, I saw a wasp flying across my path. Wasps and other stinging insects are not typically a concern unless they get stuck in your helmet or behind your glasses. This little guy was zipping along at seat level so I didn't give him a second thought. Until he hit my leg and stung me. HOLY CARP! It hurt so bad I had to pull over and see what had happened. There was a single red spot, and a quickly expanding series of red tendrils, like one of those World War II movies where they show Germany taking over Europe and Hitler's armies are shown in rapidly moving red arrows. Except it was on my leg. I thought some water might cool it down and I looked down and realized I had forgotten my water bottles. This is enough of a problem on a regular day, but it was 95 degrees out, not to mention I had just been dive-bombed by a Stuka-wasp. I turned around to get my water bottles, determined to continue forward. I went home, grabbed my water bottles and left the house for the second time. I still had not reached my first mile.

Mile 3
I have a couple of early-season marks of fitness that enable me to benchmark where I am. Most of them are related to hills, inasmuch as I can see that I am in decent shape if I can reach the top of this hill or that hill without being totally gassed. This circuit has one particular hill early in, and I climbed to the top with relative ease, a good sign for me. The only real difficulty I encountered was the throbbing in my right leg, the wasp-sting now resembling a map of Greenland, or the aforementioned WWII map, Hitler using his Stuka-wasp and now having conquered the entire region.

Mile 8
There is something about riding past a manufacturing plant for making dog food. If you're a pet owner, you know the smell when you first open the bag of food and it kind of jumps up into your face. Yeah. It's a lot like that. Only bigger, and therefor worse.

Mile 11
There is usually a point where the ride goes from uncomfortable to comfortable. Your legs get under you, your body adjusts to the position you're in, and you just start spinning. For me, this happens around mile 10, most often. I'm not sure why it is, but it's been this way for as long as I have been riding distances. This ride was no exception.

Mile 20
One of my favorite parts of riding is going past the Yellow Breeches, a world-famous limestone trout-fishing stream. It's lined by trees that overhang the stream, and also line the road that runs next to the stream. The road itself always has the feel of fresh pavement, clean and smooth, and it's a place where people often sprint on the club rides to showcase their mojo ("I'm Thor Hushovd!" "I'm Mark Cavendish!") and blow a little of the carbon out. Similarly, I used it for a place to raise my body's lactic acid threshold, a measure of how well the muscles move the acid out and away from your muscles. It's this acid that, when it builds up, produces the burn that athletes feel at high levels of exertion. By the end of this stretch, my legs are burning. I settle into a nice recovery spin.


Mile 26

I pulled into the local Sheetz, a convenience store that's good for a bottle of Gatorade and to fill up the water bottles with ice. I usually go to the little shop in Boiling Springs, but once Summer hits, they seem to run out of ice at the soda machine. The temperature was now in the high-90s, so I didn't want to chance missing out on the ice. At the Sheetz, the woman asked me absentmindedly, "How are you?" then realized I was a spandex clad, sweat-soaked, disheveled mess. She literally looked me up with a mix of confusion and horror as I replied, "I've never had a bad day in my life." The ice was a God-send and it cooled me off just in time.

Somewhere between Mile 26 and Mile 54
The truth of the matter is, a good deal of time spent in the saddle is pretty mindless stuff, relatively speaking. So what does one do with all of that time? Some of it is spent watching the road (don't hit that pothole) or the wildlife (hope that squirrel stays over there) or the wildlife on the road (wonder what happened to that Opossum?). I also tend to spend quite a bit of time thinking about people, particularly those in need of prayer. I thought a lot of time thinking about Collin and his family. I thought a lot about Mrs. Fish and the Li'l Fish, who were down visiting my mother-in-law who is in declining health. I also spent time wondering what my friend Bill is up to in Iowa, about cancer, about my fight, and about Team Fish, which is now TWO MEMBERS STRONG! I think a lot about the things for which I am thankful, especially my health and my family.

Mile 54
I cramped. Or, more specifically, my quad cramped, in the exact spot the wasp-sting occurred. I'm not sure the two were connected, and I suspect it was more a function of the heat and humidity. I was halfway up the final hill on the way home and my leg cramped so badly I had to pull over (before I fell over) and stretch it out. I got off my bike and tried to stretch my leg straight, but couldn't, then tried to bend it and couldn't. I laid down on someone's lawn and chugged the last of the Gatorade, hoping the electrolytes and potassium would be enough to stop the cramps. Minutes passed and the cramp subsided. Eventually I was able to stand. "Well, there's only one way home," I thought and hopped back on and pedalled up the remainder of the hill and the rest of the way home.

Mile 57
Cool shower and a big bowl of pasta. Life is sweet. Life is good.

Father's Day

At 43 (when did THAT happen), I realize I look at my time with my father as more of a series of snapshots than a continuum. Maybe it's part of the natural acceleration of time, Einstein's relativity at work. I remember fishing with my Dad, going to the local lake to cast for pike and bass, but ending up with sunfish, then trying to convince myself they tasted good. They don't, but my father never discouraged me. On this, I wish he had.

I remember when my brother and I were about eight, in a time when kids owned the streets and could actually be outside without checking in every 30 minutes. There was a group of teenage bullies who took my brother and me by surprise while we were riding and grabbed our bikes, then threw them into a stream. They laughed and chased us away. We walked home and told my dad, because if Dad couldn't fix it, the world was broken for sure. He piled us into the family car and we drove over to where the bullies were still sitting. I never saw my father move as fast as when he set upon those kids, nor have I seen that kind of fury. He picked the two of them up and literally threw them into the stream to retrieve the bikes, then made them apologize to my brother and me. We never saw them again.

I remember playing soccer and running track in high school, and though my father worked a lot in those days, there were times when he would just show up, often at away meets. I was an average soccer player at best, but I was something of a standout in track. One day my father showed up for a match against Palmyra, and I had the best run of my life, anchoring the 4x400 and catching a guy who had about an 80 yard head start. I was so proud my father saw that, and though he probably doesn't remember, the fact that he was there is what keeps it with me today.

One day, he took my brother and I to work (this was before the whole Take Your Kids to Work day) I was about 13. He was building the Fort Dix high-tech military simulation center, a place where soldiers could learn the finer points of using the Army's latest weapons in a simulated environment. Think: video game where you actually get to sit in an M-1 Abrams and laser site an enemy tank. One of the simulators was an M-16 firing range, and my dad asked my brother and I if we wanted to shoot it. We're young teens and your asking if we want to shoot an M-16...um...YES!!! He instructed us to keep both our eyes open, showed how to hold the weapon, how to squeeeeze the trigger. My brother was pretty good, then I got on it and hit the target at the farthest range, popping the target with multiple body shots. I was feeling really proud of myself when Dad said it was time to go. My brother and I asked him to ry before we left but he declined. Still, we begged him and whined and he relented and said he would. My brother and I chose the farthest target for him, naturally. I never thought of my dad as athletic or powerful, but he picked up the M-16 with a natural fluidity, shouldered the weapon with the grace of a big cat and squeezed the entire clip, one shot at a time, into the inner circle of the head at the farthest range. Then he placed the weapon at rest and said, "Okay, who wants some ice cream?" The whole affair took less than 4 seconds but I think it took my brother and I another 4 days to pick our jaws up, to reconcile ourselves to the fact that our father, a normally gentle man (bullies notwithstanding) had the capability to be a stone-cold killer.

When Mrs. Fish and I got engaged, my father went out and bought a tennis bracelet to present to her at our engagement dinner. It was one of the most thoughtful things I have ever seen a man do, and for his kindness I am eternally grateful. Being in my family is certainly not easy, but my dad made the effort that eased that transition for Mrs. Fish to become part of the family.

There are a million things my father taught me, showing me how to drive, change a flat tire and change the oil (there was no Jiffy Lube back then); how to bait a hook, catch a fish and gut it; how to season (less is more with good beef) and grill a proper burger; how to mow a lawn and how to maintain the mower; how to shine my shoes...and why it matters (the first thing a woman notices are your shoes); the importance of being on time; how to fix a bike and lube a chain; how to be a Boy Scout and make a Pinewood Derby winner (I still have the trophy, Dad); how to paint a room; and a thousand other things, besides. But most importantly, Dad taught me the importance of being a father myself, to not take it lightly, and also, frankly, to really enjoy being a Dad. Thanks, Dad...for everything.

The Shop...

I have a local bike shop (LBS in cycling parlance). My LBS is World Cup Ski and Cycle. When I went to buy my first bike, they were the ones who sized me up to make sure the bike fit properly. For those of you who ride, you know how important fit is. For those of you who don't, a good fit is like that baseball glove you owned when you were a kid and used every day to play catch with your buddies. And a bad fit? A bad fit is kind of like this...


So anyway, one of the cool things is that I have been dealing with the same guys (Lee and Dave own the joint). When my first bike got run over in a hit and run, they were the ones who empathized with me, recommending voodoo hexes on the jerk that sent me to the hospital. Then they sold me the Cannondale that is my current steed, which has been a great, great ride.

And, when I walk in, they treat me properly. Better than properly, actually. Last week, I had an unexpected rattle in my bottom bracket, which is where the pedals connect through the frame of the bike. It's a place where rattles should not be. Ever. It's a place that, when there is a rattle, bad things can be happening. So I took the Cannondale over thinking it was going to be bad. Very bad. Like, possibly expensive bad. Which would not sit well with Mrs. Fish, either.

"Where are you going?"
"Over to the bike shop."
Why don't you take Li'l Fish with you?"
This is code for "Why don't you take my spy with you."
I always take her anyway, because Li'l Fish likes Buck, the shop dog.

So anyway, I walk in and Lee is there. He says hello and asks what's going on. I explain about "Unexpected Clunk". He gets his tech guy and they take my bike in. Right away. Five minutes later they wheel it back out, and test ride it. Clunk free. He charges me $5.00 and off I go. That's why I do business with World Cup. Just a bunch of decent guys doing good work. If you're lucky, you have a bike shop like this near you.

Riders Wanted: LiveSTRONG Philadelphia, 2010

The time is approaching, and once again Team Fish or Cut Bait is going to ride at the LiveSTRONG event in Philadelphia on August 22, 2010 to raise money too fight cancer. I have a bunch of verbal commitments, but now is when the rubber hits the proverbial road. If you're a rider, I would love to have you as part of Team Fish.

You can choose a 20, 45, 70 or 100 mile course. There is a minimum fundraising goal of $250, but that goes incredibly quickly. Every year I have someone who asks me about it and how daunting it seems at first. Most raise it in a matter of days and are off and running after that. Trust me - it's a cinch.

Last year, we had Do'ers profiles, BUTNZ, and a bunch of other fun things going on in connection with the event. Every year we get a little better at this, and I am always open to suggestions. Rest assured this year will be no exception to the fun rule, and my buddy Kurt is already planning his "fun" group ride over the Pyrenees...as long as those sammiches are waiting for us at the bottom of the hill, I am soooooooo in, brother. So, if you're thinking about joining Team Fish, or if you've been simply putting it off until now, let's get crackin'. You can CLICK HERE AND FOLLOW THIS LINK then just click on "Join Our Team" at the top of the page.

Questions, comments, concerns, fears? E-mail me and let's get that out of the way so we can ride and PWN cancer.

Observations From a Yard Sale

Yard sales are usually about the people. Most of them are interesting, and to hear their stories is often the highlight of my experience. Yesterday's was a ssssllllloooow painful experience for the first two hours, then it picked up as more people came out. It was a very weird yard sale, to be sure.

One of my customers was a young lady in the Tap-Out tee shirt with face tattoos and multiple facial piercings, who came and bought the Happy Family Dollhouse. I was reminded that families come in all shapes and sizes. She was actually a lot of fun to speak with, and I found out she was buying it for her two-year-old daughter.

The clothes. This woman was wearing her lucky yard-sale outfit. Seriously. I don't know what part of the eighties you could possibly consider "lucky" but hey, if it's working for you, run with it. Oh, this does NOT apply to the guy with the Flock of Seagulls hair: that look needs to go.

And an open inquiry for the woman who was gazing at my wares as she cruised past, her two kids screaming in the back of her minivan while she was yakking on her cellie? I think you might want to ask yourself "What could possibly go wrong in this neighborhood filled with kids on bikes and scooters and yard-salers crossing the streets?" Then, hoping you have arrived at any one of the possible correct answers, none of which are good, would you please HANG UP YOUR DAMNED PHONE and pay attention to what you are doing, which is driving in a residential area. KTHXBAI.

Mrs. Fish said the ladies were flirting with me all day (REALLY?!?). I confess a vast amount of ignorance in this area, but I'll take her word for it. If that's the case, I am going to chalk it up to the possibility that men selling jewelry with a pocket full of quarters and having even the remotest interest in yard sales are considered something of a catch on a Saturday morning around here...

Finally, I really liked haggling with the woman and her granddaughter who wanted a book and a ring. The grandmom said her granddaughter lives in the country and "don't have nothin'. Best "sale" I made all day, making a pretense of the hard-driving six-year old and how she was such a tough negotiator that I was forced to practically give it away. Both of them left with the goods, and huge smiles.

Well, This was a Lot of Fun

I really liked this. Enjoy...

Lace 'em up...

I laced up my Sauconys and put the orthotic inserts into them. Today my goal was to do intervals, running for two minutes and walking for one minute.

It's weird that, since the injury, I have become incredibly in-tune with my body. I don't usually run with an iPod or other distractions, so it's something that I have always sort of paid attention to, but now it's most decidedly different. I am aware of every tweak (that slight pain in my right ankle, on the outside rolling down under the bone, is still there) and every feeling that is not quite normal. I can feel my Achilles rolling over the bursa sac in the heel, but the inflammation is gone, for the most part. I can also feel the difference the weight and inactivity make. My legs respond more sluggishly, don't swing as freely, nor do they have the bounce that allows them to come up and forward as quickly. The need to push myself hard on my runs is not there, but the desire to do so most certainly is. It would feel good to run fast again, but for now I need to be content with just running. After such a long layoff, I really am.

It was about 65 degrees and there was a light mist falling as I walked out tonight. I had Mango on, with a light tech shirt and it was perfect for the weather. If it was raining any harder, I would have wished for a hat, but as it was, it was just perfect. There have been bunnies on my previous runs, but not tonight. Just a couple of kids outside riding bikes and a couple of folks walking their pooches. I ran the intervals as planned, wiht a 5 minute steady run at the end, followed by a 7 minute cool down.

I can't wait to get out an do it again.

Collin

"It seems wrong to me that the people we lose give us such strength and encourage us to be better people, if not for us, for them."
---Bill Moore

One of the things about being a cancer survivor is that you meet and are influenced by amazing, incredible people. The shame of it is that, sometimes, you lose them. So it is with Collin, a two-year-old boy that I never met. I never met his family. But, in the best sense of the word, I knew them.

I found an online community for cyclists when I first got started, and found a place where people talk about cycling, but just as often discuss life. It's ups and downs, the trials and tribulations of family and relationships. Phil came on one day and asked us to pray for his family, and especially for his son, who had Acute Myeloid Leukemia. The people of the board rallied, and Collin became a focal point for discussions, for fundraisers to fight childhood cancer, for joining together to beat the disease he and his family were battling so courageously.

Phil gave us updates and we would all anxiously read them, poring over them for signs that Collin was winning. He would get a rash and go back to the hospital and we would groan. Collin's fight had, in many ways, become our fight.

Last year, I dedicated a significant portion of my ride to Collin and his family. There were times when it got tough, and Collin reminded me that it wasn't really tough. There were a couple of times when I wasn't sure I would make it. Collin's courage, his fight, reminded me that I would.

Collin is done fighting. It's not because he quit, because he had no quit in him. And now he is in a better place, a place with no pain, and no fear, and no tubes, and no needles, and no worry. Just an endless supply of love, and the promise that one day we'll get to see him and we'll be able to give him a hug and say thank you for sharing your life with us, even if it was just for one brief, amazing moment.

I miss you, brother, and my prayers are with you and your family.

One Minute Writer

Found this site that encourages us to take One Minute Writing and make it a daily habit. I have just started writing again, wading oh-so cautiously in and absorbing possibilites. Today's assignment at the site was "Little Things" and this was my contribution:

"I wasn't ready for it. I thought I was, but then she rushed out, all pink and beautiful and screaming and covered in the stuff that kept her alive, sloughing it off to reveal that I was now responsible for that role...and she was so perfect, and so tiny."

Getting Going Again...

"It'll be just like starting over...starting over..."
---John Lennon

I am FINALLY getting moving again. I was released from physical therapy after two-and-a-half months to the tears of the staff there...tears of joy, I am certain. Nonetheless, I am on my way. There is still pain in the heel, but the therapists felt the healing (heeling?) was going to be more a function of time than PT at this point. As long as I keep the ankle and the heel stretched out and mobile it should continue to improve, if only very slowly.

Yesterday I took a longer bike ride, one that I glossed the Tour de Libraries. Mrs. Fish had overdue videos at one library and I had books to pick up at another, so I hopped on The Cannondale and set out. Several thoughts occurred to me about how different things were as a result of the long layoff. First, and most obviously, I am out of shape (unless round is a shape). It's not surprising. I have a lot of strength built up as a result of the PT, but for longer, sustained, aerobic activity, it's going to be a while to build the stamina.

Second, things feel different from a sensory perspective. This time of year brings a lot of critters out and a great many of these end up as road Frisbees. The unique stench of animal decay was heavy through a couple of the more open spaces, notably around the woods and fields. I was also surprised at how quickly the temperature dropped. As the sun was going down, the Mercury dropped dramatically and I found I was nearing cold. Not that disconcerting cold, but just uncomfortable enough to make me pedal that much harder. I realized that being in the car removes me from these effects, and it's been a long time since I have had to concern myself with them. Next time, an extra layer is in order.

Third, I was surprised at how uncomfortable I felt on the bike. Not so much speaking to physical discomfort, but mentally. I was acutely aware of every vehicle around me, the smells, the speed, how close they were to me (which, ultimately, was not that close at all -- people are pretty respectful of cyclists in this area). I was also a little twitchy in the corners, which was weird, and I found myself not looking ahead far enough on more than one occasion, which added to my unease when I realized it. I am certain the comfort will return with time, but it was just an odd experience.

The highlight had to be on the way home, when this chap on a motorcycle passed me. He stopped at a red light ahead of me. It's one I sit at more than my share, so I am used to the timing pattern. I timed it so the light turned green and the rider got out ahead of me, then I mashed the pedals and passed him on the downhill, hitting about 40 miles per hour. It's not every day you get to pass a motorcycle. Dude was not amused, methinks.

Anyway, it's going to be a long slow recovery process, to be sure. I am comfortable on the bike and not too sore afterwards. Little Fish has offered to run with me as i return to this, so I have that to look forward to as well. One step at a time, one slow, laborious, plodding step...

Thankful...

For those of you following the story of my buddy Collin, he and his family have GREAT news. He had a fever high enough to prompt his parents to take him to the hospital. Because he was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), this is a serious development.

Well, the doctors got his temperature stabilized and he just came home from the hospital yesterday! Furthermore, this Friday marks Collin's second birthday. Happy birthday, little guy. And many, many more to come.

On the Road Again...

I have been on the road a lot the last couple of days. I've put 300+ miles on the car in the last two days. Yeesh.

That being said, one of the cooler things happened on my ride home today. I was driving home in the Infiniti (still loving it, by the way) and kind of not paying attention and feeling a bit tired. You know the way the road kind of lulls you a bit when you've been driving a lot? So anyway, I look up and there's a big section of aluminum drain pipe right in the middle of the highway.

My New CAR! OH. MY. OH NOES!! I realize I am going to hit it and it is far too late to react, but react is what I do. I swing the car to the right, toward the safety lane, and BAM! I am in the safety lane. I have swung around the section of pipe like I was on a rail. One second I was in the lane, the next I was in the safe zone, as if there was no transition whatsoever. I was sure I was going to hit it, but that was because I was going on the reaction time of the old Honda.

The car continues to impress me. Apparently, stoners are also impressed, as evidenced by the Jeff-Spicoli-Type-Guy that leaned out of the detention bus when I was picking up my daughter from school. "Duuuuude. That car is sooooooo cool, dude."

So I have that going for me, which is nice....

Manly-Man Weekend....

It was a quality manly-man weekend, the kind that puts hair on your chest, thkind that would make The Art of Manliness guys proud. I started landscaping the backyard, which is a sprawling giant of a hill. I am in the process of putting in railroad tie steps so we can journey down to stream that runs through our property. It's my hope we can have streamside meals with riparian entertainments this summer. It surprises me how incredibly heavy the railroad ties are. Still, I chainsawed them into usable chunks and set about carving the first setting into the hillside with a pick and shovel. Needless to say, the assorted plants, trees and other detritus that have built up over the course of years has made that task quite challenging. In between the roots and leaves, I uncovered old Ball Mason jar pieces, unspent shotgun shells (plural), a snake and even a gigantic frog (thing scared the carp out of me because I thought it was a hopping alligator at first).

Still, the foundation of gravel was laid, the rock dust smoothed over top of that then tamped down to set it, and the first step was laid out. I was ready to finalize setting it with rebar today when I found the blade I bought to cut the rebar does not fit my mitre saw. I realized this by the St. Vitus Dance it went into when I activated the saw. I'm not the world's greatest tool guy, but that did NOT look right to me, so I stopped, examined it, and found out what it was wrong. And, it was a good thing I did that before losing a limb or an eye. Who knew this project would be so fraught with peril.

In between all of this, as a rest and reward to myself, I put Li'l Fish's bike together and we went cruising around the neighborhood and beyond. On Sunday, we took a spin over to the local Giant, but it was closed for Easter so we ended up going to the only convenience store in America with no Slushy/Slurpee/Squishy machine. Iced tea was the order of the day, and it was awfully good, even though it was only half as cold as a Slushy/Slurpee/Squishy.

Somewhere along the line, I also managed to vacuum out the basement, tune up the lawnmower (new plug, new blade, spring cleaning), sweep out the garage and, today, mow the lawn and hit the weed whacking. Now I have to go grunt some more and manscape my chest....or maybe not.

Want!

Today I rode my bike for just the second time this year. Tomorrow, I am going to run for the first time since last fall. I'm a little nervous, but mostly just looking forward to being in motion again.

Big Week

Yesterday, I got on my bicycle for the first time since probably Fall. I say probably because it has been so long, I honestly can't remember the last time I rode. The Physical Therapist greenlighted me to get back on board my bike a week and a half ago and I finally made the time. I would love to tell you about the roads, the traffic, the wind in my hair, the crispness of the day, but it was raining pretty much all day, so I rode on Sunday night...on the trainer. Clearly, this is not the kind of ride I had in mind, but the fact that I was in the saddle, pedaling, was a really good sign. I even had a little leg soreness when I woke up, but nothing debilitating.

The cool thing is that I am going to run/jog/walk some intervals tomorrow. I have missed being in motion for so long, I am beyond happy. The hardest part for me has been listening to the doctors/therapists and taking things slllloooooowwwwllllly. Hopefully I am wise enough (God knows I am old enough) to listen to that advice. Still, it has its frustrations, to be sure.

Fish or Cut Bait Stew

My church had a Souper Slurpoff Soup cooking competition to raise money for the youth activities and some missions trips they are taking. My contribution was, naturally, Fish or Cut Bait Stew. And, it's still cold enough outside to enjoy it.

2 tbs Olive Oil
1 stalk of celery, finely diced
Half large onion, finely diced
2 Containers of Nature's Promise Organic Chicken Broth (Low Sodium)
16 oz. can of diced plum tomatoes
1/2 stick of pepperoni, cut in half lengthwise, then cut into thin half moons
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 bouquet garni
1 pound cod, pollock, hake or similar whitefish
1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 can of whole baby clams
Any other fresh fish/seafood you might have lying around
Salt and pepper

Heat soup pot over medium high heat and add olive oil, onion and celery. Stir constantly until transluscent, about 3 minutes. Pour in broth and tomatoes and bring to a simmer, then add white wine and pepperoni. Bring it back to a boil and add the bouquet garni, then turn down heat to a low simmer. Let the flavors mingle (the longer the better).

This is a good time to throw a good, crusty French bread in the oven so it's nice and warm and ready for dunking. Add the fish and seafood to the pot and stir gently until they are cooked all the way through. The fish should break into beautiful chunks, the shrimp will turn pink and your belly will begin to grumble.

You're almost there. Salt and pepper to taste. Note: Do this after the seafood is added and cooked through. Seafood is naturally salty, as is the pepperoni, so it's going to settle into the soup as it cooks.

Ladle the mixture into bowls and serve with the bread.

Barracuda Stew: To give my stew a little bite, sometimes I add a little Cayenne Pepper or Tabasco to the bowl.

Watch This...

Lorica of Saint Patrick

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a mulitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation

St. Patrick (ca. 377)

MEEP!

According to Li'l Fish, this is the sound all those fool birds are making at 5.00 in the morning around here. I think she may actually have it right.

MEEEEEEEEEP!