Coffee heat rising

Hiking Oak Creek!

🙂 After all that physical therapy and all that exercise, I made it to the much-anticipated hike up the West Fork of Oak Creek. As you may recall, along about last October, at the annual silent auction fundraiser for the choir, I bought a ticket to an excursion organized by two of the day school‘s teachers. At that time I thought surely the back pain I’d inflicted on myself the previous January would go away in time for me to get in shape by late April, 2013.

Well, of course, it didn’t. By February of this year I still could barely move, much less go hiking…or even walk very far. Two doctors and six weeks of intensive physical therapy later, I’d recovered enough to walk briskly and even climb. This left…well…seven days to get ready for the hike. As of yesterday, I sure wasn’t in top physical shape (and probably never will be again…so we’re told ;-)), but was one heckuva lot better than I have been.

It was great fun! The organizers have been at All Saints so long they actually remembered my son, who’s pushing middle age these days. Several other people associated with the church or the choir showed up, all of them really neat people, a pleasure to be around. Early yesterday morning we boarded the school’s large van for the short ride up the freeway to Sedona, and by mid-morning we’d arrived at the trailhead and were on our way!

Here are some of the sights…

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In the 1870s, the Mayhew Lodge stood near what is now the paved road through Oak Creek Canyo0n; before that, there was probably a homestead. A small grove of apple trees survives from that time, as well as a few red-rock ruins. As usual, click on the images for larger, higher-definition views.

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View of the creek from the bridge near the trailhead.

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This, we’re told, was the lodge’s chicken coop. Up behind it is a cave that was used for storage.

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From the outset, sandstone cliffs loom above you.

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And loom…

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And loom… Yes, that is actually the real color of the sky.

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Here’s part of our merrie groupe. Check out the cute little dog: each of our guides owned one of these doughty miniature poodles, acquired at the same time from the same litter.  They make awesome hiking companions and are so delightful I’m thinking maybe a poodle would make a better roommate for The Queen of the Universe than another (difficult-to-find!) corgi.

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The trail meanders up the canyon. We crossed the creek maybe a half-dozen times during our five-mile hike.

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We paused to rest a few minutes on this sandstone bench.

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Strange nest of a type of tent caterpillar. Weird, huh?

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A rockfall dropped this truck-size boulder and a bunch of its companions across the path. Our guides could remember a time when this little fellow wasn’t there.

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Some more debris from that rockfall.

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More scenery…

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Our guides are into geocaching. One of them climbed up here to retrieve a stash left by a previous visitor.

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We stopped here for lunch or snacks. The little dogs had a grand time swimming in the creek here!

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These lichens on the rock look like artwork…

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Here’s the whole canvas!

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More scenery.

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After that stop, we headed back to the car, like so many horses trotting for the barn.

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You know you’re there when you see those old, old apple trees again.

After the hike, we stopped in Sedona for lunch and drinks at Indian Gardens, a nifty restaurant and market in a historic building, said once to have housed a roadside gas station. It has a lovely big back patio where we could sit with the little pooches, enjoy some delicious sandwiches, and soak up a little tea…or, in my case, a Black Butte.

I’m ready to go again! One of the women on the hike, also a choir member, suggested she and I should get together for other trips. So it looks like we’ll be hiking companions. This could get to be a great deal of fun.

“Terrorist”: Let’s Call a Spade a Spade

“We believe this to be a terrorist,” said Boston Police Commissioner Ed Davis. “We believe this to be a man who has come here to kill people. We need to get him in custody.”

Reuters, Scott Monroe and Tim McLaughlin

In all due respect, sir: No. This was not a terrorist. This was a murderer. And his brother, who’s still at large as I write this, is a murderer, a car thief, and a kidnapper.

In a word, they’re both thugs.

We need to stop honoring thugs with a term that suggests they’re some sort of heroes for some sort of cause. The word “terrorist” describes a person who commits violence as a form of political speech. To call every madman and every nitwit who decides to commit a violent crime upon the public a “terrorist” is to lionize criminals.

It’s time to quit that. Way past time.

People who kill innocent civilians are murderers. They are murderers of women and children. They are murderers of men who have presented no threat to them. People who commit carjackings are thieves. People who make off with the owners of the cars they steal are kidnappers. They are not heroes of some cause. They are criminals.

Each time we call some misguided madman a “terrorist,” we elevate him or her to the level of a minor hero for some political cause. And when we create laws specific to “terrorism,” we institutionalize that honoring. In doing so, we do not discourage such behavior: we encourage it.

Let’s get real. We already have laws against murder. We have laws against theft. We have laws against kidnapping. We have laws against building bombs and placing them in public places. People who violate those laws are criminals, not some sort of romanticized (in their own eyes) low-level heroes.

We need to get rid of the “terrorism” laws and prosecute these jerks for what they are: criminals, under the perfectly effective laws that existed long before the waves of panic generated by the 9/11 attacks.

Khalid al-Mihdhar was a criminal.
Mohamed Atta was a criminal.
Marwan al-Shehhi was a criminal.
Ziad Jarrah was a criminal.
Hani Hanjour was a criminal.
Tamerlan Tsarnaev, if he proves to be guilty, was a criminal.
Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, if he proves to be guilty, is a criminal.
Timothy McVeigh was a criminal.
Jared Lee Loughner is a criminal.
James Holmes is a criminal.
Adam Lanza was a criminal.

The sooner we identify such people as what they are — thugs, not some sort of marginal heroes for some sort of imagined or fanatic cause — the better off we as a people will be. The less scared we will be and the more effective we will be.

Let us call them what they are, and let us prosecute them for what they are: murderers, thieves, kidnappers, bombers, shooters. And let us dispense with the politically loaded term “terrorist.”

It gives these people way too much credit.

OMG! Actual CUSTOMER SERVICE!!!

I couldn’t believe it. Yesterday I experienced an instance of real, genuine customer service from a telephone customer service rep. The employer of this paragon? Bosch appliances.

The Bosch in my kitchen, which at about six years old can be described, in today’s dystopic world, as “aging,” dropped the sprayer arm off its upper rack. A Bosch has a rotating sprayer arm in the bottom of the tub and another rotating arm attached to the bottom of the upper rack.

Well, you’re supposed to take each arm off and clean it now and again, so in theory I know how to put it together. But it would not go back on.

I called my favorite appliance dealer here, hoping they could tell me what I was doing wrong. Their CSR couldn’t figure it out and gave me a phone number. When I called that, the phone tree made it clear the line was for merchants. But as I was listening to the robot yack, I noticed the sticker bearing the serial and model numbers happened to have a customer service number. Hung up on the robot, called the number on the sticker, and lo! Quickly reached a live human being!

Can you imagine?

If that weren’t amazing enough… I asked her if she could give me a URL for a diagram that would show how the parts were supposed to fit together. She said she would e-mail a PDF of their parts manual. “On page  6,” said she, “you’ll see a schematic that shows how that piece goes together.”

Before I could walk back to the computer, the thing had hit the in-box.

And well. Yeah. At a glance it indicated a part was missing…where should I find it but on the bottom of the tub, where it had fallen off and bounced beneath the lower rack. Noooo problem! Snapped the gadget together, and it clicked right into its place on the upper rack.

I always cringe whenever I have to jump through those frustrating, infuriating telephone-tree hoops. Is there anything more disingenuously insulting than a robot voice going on about how “we value your business”? Dude! If you valued my business you’d pay someone minimum wage to answer the flicking phones!

At Bosch, I did have to climb past one limb of a phone tree. But it wasn’t too annoying: the CSR in question came on the line after one punch-a-button before finding a live person. She was sane, polite, and she actually spoke real, unaccented, idiomatic English. Absolutely mind-boggling.

It paid for the extra cost of a Bosch.

 Dishwasherparts

 

 

Hiking/Health Update

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w00t! Made it to the top of the mountain for the FOURTH time this week!

When I described this hike on April 14, I imagined I was clambering up North Mountain. That’s because SDXB and I have perennially confused North Mountain with Shaw Butte all these years. In fact, the trail I pictured and described in that post goes up Shaw Butte, a slightly higher promontory with an interesting history.

The Shaw Butte trail (about 2150 feet in elevation) can be accessed from several trailheads on the south and the north sides. From Central Avenue site, the round-trip hike is said to be about 5 miles (uh-huh…I’ll believe that when I see someone’s pedometer reading…I’d put it at about 3 or 3½ miles RT, but whatever…). You can get to it from the expensive-looking Seventh Street Visitor’s Center by following a trail that goes around and over the flood dam and intersects the upward-bound trail just above the dinky Central Avenue parking lot; I’d guess that trail is…ohhh…about a half-mile.

Yesterday, by peering off the side of the mountain, whence I had hiked from the Central Avenue parking lot on the north side of the hills, I figured out that a side trail probably led to the Visitor’s Center or someplace close to it.

So today I parked at the Visitor’s Center, which has a much more generous parking lot (I can park easily in the Central Avenue parking lot by taking advantage of my crip-space hanger, but…it’s a little embarrassing to park in a disabled space and then go bounding up the side of a mountain….) (I don’t use the crip space hanger unless a parking lot is practically empty, except when I’m in Tempe, where ASU commits a version of piracy in the public parking department) (and even in near-empty lots I rarely use it, because one of my eccentricities is a preference for parking on the far end of a lot by way of a) getting some exercise and b) parking my car in the shade).

(CHALLENGE: How many parenthetical asides can YOU cram into a single sentence?) 😀

Sh!t…where was I? I lost track…

Yeah, on the side of the mountain. Today’s trek was the fourth hike up the mountain since last Friday. I’d intended to do it tomorrow and make today’s exercise either a hike on the flat or a long bicycle ride, but one of my clients wanted to meet as dawn cracks tomorrow morning. It’s supposed to hit 90 degrees tomorrow, so I knew that by the time I shovel him out the door, it’ll be way too late for a journey up the side of a half-mile-high hill.

Saturday is the endlessly anticipated Oak Creek hike, the motivation for six weeks of physical therapy and all this mad conditioning-motivated hiking. The planned Friday conditioning hike obviated by the client’s demand, I decided to move it forward to today. That will make Friday into a day of relative rest (biking or canal-hiking planned for after the guy leaves tomorrow). This (a vigorous hike + a day of relative peace + vigorous hike + peace) is best, I’ve found, for building stamina.

So it was off to the Seventh Avenue Visitor’s Center as soon as I escaped from this morning’s wee-hours meeting of the Scottsdale Business Association.

It was late when I started, as in too goddamn hot to be climbing around: well after noon by the time I got back to the car. That notwithstanding, though, I reached the top with only four stops to gasp for breath. The first time up, honest to Gawd, I think I stopped to huff and puff about every twenty steps!

Useta be that when I would get out of shape, it would take three, count’em (3), trips up the mountain to reach the stage where I could hike all the way to the summit without stopping. Now that I’m old, however, I figure about six would be more like it. So far, I seem to be on target: this week I’ve made four trips up there. Hmm. Surely by next Friday, assuming I make three trips next week, I should reach the top without a pause.

Let’s pretend that the five-mile figure is correct (though I doubt it). I’ve been up the mountain four times this week: that’s 20 miles. And I’ve made two hikes on the flat of maybe a mile and a half apiece. Sooo…what do we have? Twenty-three miles? NOT FREAKING BAD, for an old bat pushing 70! (no, we do not mean 70 mph…)

IMHO, the distance up the side of Shaw Butte is more like three miles. So, if I could go up there three days a week and then walk the flat or the canal another three days a week (choir will obviate much outdoor activity now that the weather’s getting hot), that would give us…what?

3 three-mile uphill hikes = 9 miles/week
3 one-and-a-half flat hikes = 4.5 miles/ week
Total hill plus flat =13.5 miles/week

Well. That’s thirteen and a half more miles than the distance between the computer and the refrigerator.

I sure do feel a lot better. The cardiologist-doc was right in saying that a stint of sustained vigorous exercise brings a quick end to the anxiety attacks. Not only that, but the back pain is now almost 100% gone, with the exception of an occasional very mild twinge.

This is good. Very, very good.

Image: North Mountain and Shaw Butte Preserves. Jstuby at en.wikipedia. Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.

The Bargain Tax

Check this out:

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Translation:

Today I returned a lifetime supply of Roundup to Costco, because I couldn’t open the damn consumer-proof container and because on reflection I decided I didn’t want to open it.

I paid a penny less than $40 for it and expected to get that much back. When the guy said “That’ll be $33 back on your credit card,” I said “Huh?” He said, “You got a $9.00 coupon.”

Ohhhhkaayyyy….

But…look at the amount of tax they refunded, shown on the green receipt: $3.63

That tax is not on the reduced amount I paid. It’s on the full freight of the pre-“coupon” price.

See? I paid $29.99 for the stuff, and they charged me tax on a $38.99 purchase.

In Arizona our sales tax is almost 10%. So that amounts to an 84-cent difference.

Peanuts, you say? Well. Consider how much merchandise a single Costco store moves, to say nothing of Costco’s thirteen stores in the Greater Phoenix Metropolitan Area.

At this time of year, Roundup is a hot item in Phoenix. Every one of those 87 berjillion fake “desert-landscape” yards sprouts a bumper crop of wazoo-high weeds after the winter rains. Basically what it means is that just about everyone who lives in a house craves to buy Round-up. Last I heard, the Phoenix GMA was home to about two-thirds of Arizona’s population, to the tune of something over 1.5 million households.

Think of that. Let’s say a half-million of them live in apartments. That would give us a potential market, for the wee overcharge, of $.84 x 1 million, or $840,000. Not a bad profit, on a bit of bookkeeping sleight of hand.

Curry: Brain Food?

A friend in choir picked up on the speculation, which has been around for a while, that regular consumption of curry, the Indian spice, may stave off Alzheimer’s, or even correct it to some degree. Research has focused on one of the spice mix’s common ingredients, turmeric, which contains a supposedly brain-healthy compound called curcumin.

Personally, I’m skeptical — this rings of woo-woo. IMHO, a balanced diet and regular exercise stave off whatever ails you, not this herb or that vegetable. But what the heck? Curry is delicious and a great way to get veggies, fruits, fish, and meat down.

So, I offer recipes from the edge of the Persian Gulf, where we American colonists hired Pakistani and Goanese cooks and houseboys. These were the specialties of a man named Pedro, who cooked for a couple who were friends of my parents.

Pedro’s Curry

1 to 1½ pounds beef stew meat
½ package string beans
½ package canned peas
1 onion, chopped
1 large can tomatoes
3 or more teaspoons curry powder
salt and pepper to taste
1½ cups water or beef broth or chicken broth

Note that this original recipe, true to its 1950s origins, contains mostly canned ingredients. In those days, people ate more canned products because refrigerators were small and freezers were tiny, frost-choked compartments inside the small refrigerators. Also, in Arabia we didn’t get much fresh produce; what we could buy had to be soaked in dilute Clorox water before it could be consumed, a tedious process, indeed. Today I would substitute fresh or frozen beans, peas, and whatever else came to hand. Adding a little fresh spinach or chard at the last minute, so it cooks just long enough to blanch and wilt, would be nice.

Lamb or pork could be used in place of or in combination with the beef. We did not have access to lamb in Arabia, and it’s highly doubtful that our Moslem workers would have prepared anything with pork in it, even if they had no intention of eating it themselves.

Brown meat and chopped onions in a small amount of oil in a Dutch oven. Add salt, pepper, and curry after the meat and onions are brown. Stir well. Turn off the heat and let this stand for a while — anywhere from one to three hours.

Add water or broth. Bring the combination to a low boil, then turn the heat to “low” and allow to simmer about 1½ hours or until the meat is tender. Add the rest of the ingredients.  Let mixture stand for about another hour to assimilate the curry. Then heat to boiling point and serve over rice.

Curry dinners are traditionally served over rice and accompanied by many condiment-like side dishes, such as

Rice with raisins and almonds
Shredded coconut, browned gently under the broiler
Chutney
Papadoums, or, if you can’t find them in the grocer’s, Wheat Thins
Naan, or  you could substitute warmed pita bread
Waldorf salad, or sliced apples
Sliced cucumbers marinated with vinaigrette and sour cream or yoghurt

Rice with Raisins and Almonds

1 cup Uncle Ben’s converted rice
2½ cups water
About ¼ cup raisins (may be soaked in sherry for upwards of an hour)
About ¼ cup almonds

Spread the almonds on a cookie sheet and run under the broiler just long enough to brown.  Watch carefully—they scorch easily.

Place the water in medium-sized saucepan. Bring to a boil over “high” heat.  Turn heat to “medium” or “medium-low” and pour in 1 cup rice. Add the raisins and browned almonds.  Cover tightly and allow to simmer for about 20–25 minutes, until the water is fully absorbed.

Total cooking time for curry and rice: about three to five hours

Curry Puffs

Frozen puff pastry or phyllo dough
Ground meat (lean ground sirloin, or if you have it, ground lamb or pork)
Onions, finely chopped
Garlic, minced
A little vegetable oil (I happen to like olive oil, but anything will do)
A lot of curry powder
A dash of salt & pepper

These savory treats are incredibly delicious. When I was a little girl, the instant I got wind of a rumor that Pedro was going to cook curry puffs, I would show up at the neighbors’ back door, invade his kitchen, and hang around underfoot until he would give me snacks. Pedro used to make puff pastry from scratch, a two-day process. Fortunately, you and I can find it in the freezer compartment of a well-stocked grocery store.

Sauté the onions in oil until translucent.  Pour the cooked onions onto a plate.  Brown the meat in the remaining oil. If a lot of water cooks out of the meat and still resides in the frying pan when the meat looks cooked, drain the meat in a colander or sieve.  Place the meat and onion back in the pan; stir in the garlic. Sauté a couple of minutes to start the garlic cooking.  Then add a bunch of curry powder. Like, a LOT of curry powder.  We are talking THE JOY OF CURRY POWDER here.  Get enthusiastic.  Toss in as much curry powder as you can stomach.  In other words, “Add curry to taste.”  Season some more with a bit of salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to about 400 degrees.

If you’re using puff pastry:

Defrost the pastry overnight in the refrigerator or (carefully!) in the microwave. Flour a board and roll the pastry out fairly thin. Each “puff” is about 2 inches x 3 inches or thereabouts and is formed like a turnover. In cutting out pieces of pastry to form the puff, keep the math in mind. Thus for a 2 x 3 puff you should cut a piece 3 inches wide by 4 inches long, so that when you fold the 4-inch length over the filling, you end up with a rectangular turnover about 2 inches wide.

Place a spoonful of curried meat in the center of a piece of puff pastry and turn the top over it.  Press the edges together with a fork. Place puffs on a cookie sheet, far enough apart so that they won’t bash each other when they puff up in cooking.

If you’re using phyllo dough:

Defrost the dough in the refrigerator. Dampen and wring out a couple of clean tea towels.  Open the package and unfold the phyllo dough. Place a tea towel over the unfolded package of phyllo layers.

Work quickly.

Pick up a couple of leaves of phyllo and place it on your lightly floured pastry board.  Cut phyllo into pieces, as above. Lay the other damp tea towel over the pieces that you’re not working with. Form curry puffs with phyllo dough as described for puff pastry and place on cookie sheet. You may also want to cover the completed, unbaked puffs with a damp towel, especially if it looks like it will take you a while to finish forming enough to fill an entire cookie sheet.

In either event…

Bake about 15 or 20 minutes in a fast oven, until cheerfully browned and tasty-looking.  Keep an eye on the things as they’re cooking.