The Shitty Pigeon

In the midst of a vibrant ground-flower parade storming my inbox — I'll give the last few procrastinators another day or two to submit their favorite petals. This will allow me to over hydrate my Fave's submission so it doesn't win, and eliminate the possibility for any conflict of interest.

My Fave's blooming submission, photo: P&P

Speaking of watering, I have an fondness for most non-humans, however, sometimes the occasional creature interrupts my life and I am left with a dilemma. Like how do I humanly evacuate a family of rats from my barbecue? Or how do I get The Shitty Pigeon to find another perch?

The Shitty Pigeon and his friend, photo: P&P

The Shitty Pigeon recently made himself comfortable on the downspout above our new barbecue and has been trying to make the grill his favorite target. Fortunately I bird watched him and came up with a temporary defense before he could do any real damage.

Bombs away, photo: P&P

But I needed a permanent solution that would leave The Shitty Pigeon unharmed and my barbecue free of his shit. This is what I came up with:

He came back a few more times, and got watered a few more times, but eventually absorbed my message. Now I can get back to watering my Fave's flowers in preparation for the Ground Flower Competition.

I'll leave you with one of the recent submissions that is going to be tough to beat.

Ground flour, photo: anonomyus 

Keep petaling,

Ground Flower Competition

     Since there's no such thing as a first annual anything, this is the announcement of the first Pedal and Petal ground flower competition. So what is a ground flower? It is an unpicked flower, or one that is still in the ground. And there lies the criteria for the competition — it has to be a ground flower.
     I am making this clear now because I started sending out text messages requesting people to send me photos of their favorite flowers, and of course Guy was one of the first to respond with a photo of a bouquet taken at the local grocery store.

Not an acceptable submission, photo: Guy

     Remember Guy? He has a lot of kids and a lot of stuff.

Some of Guy's kids hanging on for their lives, photo: PandP

Some of Guy's stuff — he has to extend his garage with a tarp. photo: PandP

     For the next few days (or until I have enough photos) I will be accepting pictures of your ground flowers. Once I collect the photos via, text, email, Facebook, Twitter (@pedalandpetal) and through the comments section on this blog, I will objectively judge the flowers and pick a winner.
     After I choose a winner, you'll be presented with a prize — a ground flower of my choice. You're more than welcome to nominate yourself or someone else for this competition, and I wish you luck in finding the perfect ground flower to submit.
     Remember, this is not a flower blog, I just write about them once in a while.

Please send any questions you have my way.
Keep pedaling

S'more of what?

     Often times my Fave and I unselfishly put Syd to bed early so we can do things together that a kid would enjoy without actually having one around. Sometimes we end up playing a game or eating a dessert that Syd didn't know we had, however, the last two nights — we've been roasting marshmallows and making s'mores.

     The first night we pretended our new barbecue was a campfire, we weren't completely prepared and ended up having to use wooden skewers that were far from flame proof. However, the s'mores themselves turned out good, I noticed that I was roasting one marshmallow at a time and my Fave was roasting two. I wasn't surprised because she typically picks up new skills quicker that I do, and she's also better at eating dessert than I am.

One mallow, vs. two mallows (photo: PandP)

     She claimed that roasting two marshmallows for my s'more was the only way to go, so I decided to try it her way. I bought metal skewers for the second night to support the extra weight of the added mallow. First I ran the idea by Jak, who wasn't so sure about the two-marshmallow method.

Not sure about this (photo: PandP)

     As unsure as Jak and I were — sure enough, my Fave was right. Two marshmallows is the way to go.

My Fave burning her mallows (photo: PandP)

     What my Fave didn't expect was that I would quickly become the master of her technique, and that my s'mores would appear more appetizing than hers. She also didn't expect me to take a picture for documentation. In the photo below she's trying to reposition her s'more for the camera.

Wait, "it looks better from this angle" (photo: PandP)

     It didn't help, here's her s'more after the repositioning.

This poor s'more (photo: PandP)

     And here's mine after two nights of s'more training — the student becomes the teacher.

     As my Fave walked away in defeat with marshmallow stuck to her chin, she muttered, "hand me your stick so I can get the gooey white stuff off."

I Declare, Bald Eagle Appreciation Day

     While I am trying to decide what to write about on my other bicycle blog, I thought I would write something for the decreasing number of Pedal and Petal enthusiasts. This is what I chose; while I was shlepping towards a different county on my pedaler a couple months back, I realized that we need to dedicate one of our 365 days, to bald eagle appreciation. You know, the bird of prey with a distinct white head.
     Like this beaut I came across:

Bald eagle nesting on a power line (photo: PandP)

     I apologize for the distance at which this photo was taken — I actually went in for a close-up but was viewed as prey and needed to avoid a talon-engaged swooping of my head. I took this photo on the way out of town, and on the way back I met a woman who keeps an eye on these birds for the county. She informed me that in Seattle, bald eagles are just like pigeons in that they are everywhere.
     Imagine opening up your U.S. Passport and having a photo of a pigeon instead of this.

Not a pigeon (photo:PandP)

     If it was up to the idiot Benjamin Franklin, the turkey would have been the national bird because he claimed that bald eagles had bad moral character. It's a good thing birds aren't measured by their moral character otherwise we would be eating our national bird every November. What about penguins? They're pretty sweet being how they fly under water and all, and yet, they don't have a day either.

An under water flying penguin (photo: PandP)

     I suggest that we start by replacing easter (not capitalized for being an erroneous day not worth celebrating) with Bald Eagle day, and see how people take to the idea. Perhaps the day could consist of people stealing from each other. Then we could replace valentine's day, which isn't actually a holiday (really it isn't) with Penguin Day. After that birds would just start lining up for their own day of celebration.
     Now that this blog has finally been used for something useful in announcing Bald Eagle day, it will be going through some changes in the upcoming weeks. It will have the same look, and have the same name, but in an effort to produce more content I am making some changes. The most significant change being...
   

I've Been Stuck in a Cloud

     Those of you wondering where I've been this year — well, I've actually been stuck in a cloud. And not the kind of cloud you're picturing.

The type of cloud you're picturing (photo: PandP)

     Here in the Silicon Valley we refer to data centers as clouds, and if you look just below the actual clouds in the photo above, you'll see hundreds of them in the valley below. To escape the cloud I grabbed my bike along with my foreign exchange rider and headed to the top of a nearby mountain.
     While I waited patiently at the top of Sierra road for my friend, I had time to think about all of my historical data that's sitting right there in one of those clouds. Because that's what clouds do, among other things — but they actually store and protect your data so you can find it later.
     When I glanced into my cloud — this is what I found:
     I spend too much time behind the wheel of a car. I took this while driving down Lombard street in San Francisco — should have been riding down it.

Cars are dumb (photo: PandP)

      When we actually got out for rides during the cold season, we spent too much time worrying about which direction to go, and ended up lost anyways.

Which way to go? (photo: PandP)

     Somehow Mauricio and I ended up on a ride that finished up with a brewery tour.

Cheers (photo: PandP)

     I take too many photos of Mauricio.    

Oh look, it's Mauricio (photo: PandP)

      The master of sign language.

Watch your step (photo: PandP)

 And the Costa Rican Banana Slug, aka — Maurico.

La prisa guy (photo: PandP)

And who is this?

Mauricio the dog (photo: PandP)

     A few weeks back my sister got a new dog. She named him Mauricio.



 

Remember When This Was a Flower Blog?

     I don't, but Guy obviously does. Remember him?

Guy (photo: PandP)

     He's extraordinary at doing what most guys aren't. Like paying attention to detail. Or feeding four kids at once.

Who's hungry? (photo: PandP)

     And decorating hats.

Hat crafting (photo: PandP)

     But don't let his talents fool you. All he really wants to do is make every woman he comes in contact with swoon over him and question their current partner. And with all his spare time in the midst of raising three girls under the age of four, Guy will subtly learn all of your Fave's favorite things.
     Take last week for example. I received a text from my Fave that read, "I got flowers today from some other Guy." With this image attached:

Not just holiday flowers (photo: Fave)

     And of course I raised an eyebrow and muttered the name — Mauricio. Hours later I figured out that he wasn't responsible at all, but rather my other guy, Guy. But what's the big deal? They're just festive cliche holiday flowers. Yes, from an outsider's perspective. But what guy knows, is that when mixed, the colors red and white make pink. He knows this because he's not red/green color blind like me. And he also knows that pink happens to be my Fave's favorite color. She couldn't have been more swooned once I decrypted the symbolism for her. So now what? How could I possibly compete?

Guy's left, mine right (photo: PandP)

     With bigger pink flowers.

Two Nights One Pub

    Do you remember my foreign exchange rider from Costa Rica, Mauricio? Well in case you missed him last time, here he is again.

"Hola señoras" (photo: PandP)

     The other night Mauricio invited me out to his favorite pub, and since my Fave was up to her usual Wednesday tricks of frumping around the house in sweats watching crazy women on television, I took him up on the offer. Besides, Mauricio and I usually communicate through text message, how impersonal is that?

Me and Mauricio (photo: PandP)

     It's a good thing I went because I fell in love with the place the second I walked in and heard the familiar, soothing sound of the Misfits rising up from beneath the floorboards. And the best part about this place besides everything, was that it's dog friendly.

Mauricio's Risa de perro (photo:PandP)

     And of course Mauricio has a dog to bring to the pub. Meet Koa, a dog so cool he's all the company two men need at a bar. After we sat down with our beer I was sitting at the table petting Koa and asked Mauricio, "what kind of dog is Koa?"
     He replied, "Koa es Risa de perro, Usted sabe, Koa es un hiena."
     Translation: "Koa is a laughing dog, you know, Koa is a hyena."
      Apparently the lady sitting next to us who definitely had her eye on something tall dark and Latino understood Spanish because she very cautiously moved to the other side of the room. Her loss. We ended up drinking a lot of Belgium beer and heading home in a rather anticlimactic fashion. 


Night two:
     
     I have a bar bike. I use it for two purposes, I either tow my kid and dog with it or I ride it to the bar. I use it in these instances because it works really well for hauling my family and if it gets stolen, I wouldn't be too upset like I would with some of my other bikes. 
     In this particular instance my bar bike and I were invited by the worst cyclist in the Bay Area and some other friends to watch our local ice skating team.

San Jose's ice skating team the Sharks (photo: PandP)

The Bay Area's worst cyclist (photo: PandP)

     And by cyclist I mean, someone who chooses to ride a bike because they want to and not because they should. 

The Bay Area's worst riding on the sidewalk (photo: PandP)

     And of course he got his pants caught in his chainring resulting in a fresh slit up the back of his leg. 

Pants that were too flared to begin with (photo: PandP)

     And here we are locking up our bikes at my favorite pub.

My bike security Guy, really his name is Guy (photo: PandP)

     And now that I have a pub, I have a pub night, which happens to be tonight. So as I am sitting here blogging along, I just asked my Fave, "what are you doing tonight?"
     She said, "what do you mean? What are you doing tonight?"
     "It's pub night," I replied.
     "You don't have a pub night," she said.

Turkey Ride, Head Injury and another Award

     A few days prior to Thursday I mentioned to my Fave that I would be going on my annual Turkey Day Ride on Thanksgiving morning for the first time. I could tell that she was a little dis-satisfied with my decision to leave for a bike ride on a holiday, so I left before she woke up.
     After some discrete coordination with one of my riding partners, I quickly filled my hydration pack with beer and electrolytes and was off. While the weather was a bit chilly the ride turned out to be fantastic. Just look at the smile on the face of my foreign riding partner Mauricio. He's from Costa Rica, and doesn't speak much English so he usually communicates by using universal hand signals.

Peace everyone (photo: PandP)

     And Mauricio and I weren't the only ones who rode, we just happened to be the first one's up the hill. Hours later these people finally arrived.

Slower riders (photo: PandP)

      After eating some turkey, drinking beer and freezing our asses off it was time for a fast, muddy descent back to Thanksgiving, and in my case, back to my Fave and kid who at this point were itching to have me make myself useful while wearing Lycra around the house.
     We surprisingly made it down the mountain without any casualties where I kissed Mauricio goodbye and bolted home. When I arrived, however, my Fave was nowhere to be found, which actually makes it easier to hang my bike in the garage when her car isn't so rudely parked in my bicycle storage facility.
     So like usual I hung up my mountain bike and ...

Me after taking a chainring to the head (photo: PandP)

     As you probably figured out by now — my bikes fell while I was under them, which left my Fave with a bloody date to Thanksgiving dinner. So of course I asked my fave how she felt about my forehead.

My Fave's, you're an idiot look (photo: PandP)

     And ironically, I won another award from a fellow blogger.

I think he meant to call it an Idiot Award, but I'll accept it anyways. (image: JKess)

Award-Winning Morning Wood

     As I procrastinated this morning by hitting the snooze button on my iAlarm a good four or five times before slowly erecting myself out of bed next to my slumbering Fave, I had no idea what surprise was awaiting me in the Blogosphere.

The Versatile Blogger Award, awarded to me (Award Credit: Year 31)

     Yes, I am now an award-winning blogger. Thanks to a fellow award-winning blogger, Year 31, who's actually 32, but whatever, I guess she doesn't want to change her blog name every year. Regardless, it's a good blog and you all should check it out because she is also a versatile blogger. Let me spell it out for you: http://yearthirtyone.blogspot.com/
     As you could imagine, I was trouser-tent happy when I heard the news about my award and I had to tell someone. Except it was 5:40am, and besides my dog, no one was awake. But I had to tell someone. So I told my Fave, and then snapped a photo of her excitement.

My excited Fave (photo: PandP)

     As you can see, she couldn't have been prouder of me. And since she was so happy for me, I wanted to capture the moment again.

Look, she's so stoked (photo:PandP)

     Her words, "who gave you that?"
     Uh, "my peers of course."
     "No they didn't," she said.
     "What does that mean?" She questioned

Something to do (photo:PandP)

     What this notoriety means is that we (Syd and I), get to do whatever creative activities we feel like. You know, like paint random stripes on the walls. This is actually a story of it's own and will be covered at a later time.
     So as a recipient of this award comes responsibility, and since I am terrible at following rules, I am sure I will intentionally screw this part up. But, it's my obligation to award other bloggers with the same award, and provide some factoids about myself.
     When I think of versatile bloggers, one comes to mind, and as much as I don't want to give him an award, I have to. And that's because when he writes about anything except bike racing, his blog rocks. 
     The first Versatile Blogger award goes to:
The idiot who writes A Kestlefest or previously The Curious Case of J. Kess

     The next goes to a blogger who I just discovered — she's stranger than fiction. Red Means Go. If you don't get her, don't worry, it's only because you're normal.
     As for factoids about me — I don't enjoy talking about myself, and would rather write about others.

The "Genius" and the iPhone 4s

     If I were a reader of tech blogs, which I am not (I am open to suggestions but if the link isn't amuzing, I am leaving an obscene photo taken with my new iCamera in the comments section.), I would expect to find a post or two about the new iPhone that was released this weekend. With that written, instead of simply searching for reviews of Apple's new pocket rocket, I've decided to buy one and write my own.
     To do this required a few sacrifices on my part. I had to get sick and leave work early on Friday to go stand in line at the Apple store down the street. On top of getting sick, I took a pay cut (unless I use a sick day). Next, the "Genius" (that's what they call people who work at Apple stores) coaxed me into paying the full amount of our phone bill before I was eligible to activate my new phone. Before I could buy my new phone I had to pay a past-due amount of $217 on our bill. Whatever, I would have had to pay it as soon as my phone got shut off anyways. I was all squared away to buy my new phone and the "Genius" told me it's going to cost $650 because I am not eligible for an upgrade. He said the reason for this is because I never pay my bill on time. At this point the "Genius" expected me to leave the store without a new phone.
     That was not an option, and I quickly realized that the "Genius" was trained on protocol. He had no idea that I have been trained for the last ten years by my fave on how to find the loop holes in protocol. So I promptly asked him to cancel my current phone service and sign me up with the competitor's. The "Genius'" next hour was spent at my side working as my secretary, providing me with phone numbers and pens. By the end of the hour we were friends, I had a new phone, and I learned that he was a retired probation officer who now works at Apple for fun. I made my secretary feel comfortable by telling him that I was on probation (I am not really on probation).  
Review starts here:
     Now that I've had the phone for a couple of days I feel that I can objectively review it. The phone I replaced was an older-model iPhone, which I originally purchased because I hate talking on the phone, but love music, being connected, and having quick access to a camera.
     The best thing about the new device is that the camera is pretty bad ass, and will greatly improve the photos on this blog. You're welcome, and you'll be glad to know that the "Intelligent Keyboard" remains as stupid as ever. For example, if you want to ask a friend, "did you like it?" You will actually ask them, "did you lick it?"
     There is one new feature, however, that will make many users very happy. The new iPhone comes equipped with a girlfriend named Siri. The phone was obviously designed by a very lonely engineer who needed one more feature to go along with his "Vibrate Massager" app.

Weird app (Photo: PandP)

And without going to techie on you, from my understanding the new iPhone has two processors so loners will be able to run a multitude of disgusting applications with optimized efficiency.
     How does this pertain to cyclists. It should in keep us safer on the roads because Siri is an order taker, and can send texts by simply asking her to text "blah, blah, fucking blah to whoever." And it also appears that there are more ride-tracking apps available than the last time I visited the App Store.
     So from here on out this blog will have better photos of bikes, flowers and animals, but I would like to leave you with the last photo ever taken with my older-model iCamera. I wanted to make it a good one.

Jak being romantic on my fave's leg. (Photo: PandP)