Whole Wheat Pancakes

I have memories from about 8 years of age of helping to cook pancakes. This was a skill I obtained early and used often throughout my life.

In our family we have wheat storage and a wheat grinder. We have tried to use our whole wheat through the years, predominantly with homemade wheat bread and pancakes. Cooking the pancakes has been my specialty through the years.

Here is the very recipe card I have used these past 25 years. Suzanne got it as part of a visiting teacher message.



Perhaps 30 years ago we got this bottle of imitation maple flavoring. I have made countless batches of maple syrup using it, boiling several cups of water and adding sugar and flavoring. This bottle is finally close to being empty. I confess, though, that we have graduated to using real maple syrup, now that the kids are gone. (Don't tell the kids that many times I had to scrape the mold off the top of the homemade syrup container before we used it.)



For a number of years it was a regular routine in our family for me to make pancakes every Saturday or Sunday. I don't think the kids were all that keen on the whole wheat pancakes, often campaigning to add some white flour into the mix. To make them more palatable I would sometimes make shapes out of the pancakes, or announce I had perfect ones just off the griddle.


Lookin' good!


We add fresh or frozen fruit that we have picked, usually strawberries or peaches. Delicious!

Electric Football

I recently read the book "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid", by Bill Bryson. What a hilarious read. Listening to the audio book while riding my bike I wonder what people thought when they saw me break into a laugh for no apparent reason. I found it particularly amusing since it covered the author's childhood in the 50's and early 60's, so I could relate to so much of what he wrote about. I'm sure I can harvest several blog posts by this read, today's being the first.

About 1960 my brother and I received an electric football game as a Christmas gift, one like the photo below:



This was the era before computers and video games, so we are talking state of the art high tech for 1960, and Barry and I were so excited. The actual playing of the game was not so easy, though. You would line up your players into offensive and defensive formations, then the offense would decide which player had the ball, and turn on the electric vibrator. The players had these plastic tabs on their feet bent in such a way that they moved forward. Generally. But not always.

When a defensive player touched the ball carrying player then he was down. The offense could opt for a forward pass, and a small spring device was used to fling the small felt football towards a downfield player, but it was very rare that the ball would hit the player for a completion.

When I think back on the experience it all seems a tad ludicrous. Did we actually enjoy playing the game? I don't know, I'll have to ask my brother Barry what he remembers about it.

I got this from wikipedia:

In Bill Bryson's "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid: A Memoir," the author describes electric football as "The worst toy of the decade [the 1950s], possibly the worst toy ever built...it took forever to set up each play because the men were so fiddly and kept falling over, and because you argued continuously with your opponent about what formations were legal and who got to position the final man...it hardly mattered how they were set up because electric football players never went in the direction intended. In practice what happened was that half the players instantly fell over and lay twitching violently as if suffering from some extreme gastric disorder, while the others streamed off in as many different directions as there were upright players before eventually clumping together in a corner, where they pushed against the unyielding sides like victims of a nightclub fire at a locked exit. The one exception to this was the running back who just trembled in place for five or six minutes, then slowly turned and went on an unopposed glide toward the wrong end zone until knocked over with a finger on the two-yard line by his distressed manager, occasioning more bickering." (hardcover version, page 113)

Mayhem -- Epilogue

Seven months have passed since my bad bicycle crash. I made several trips back to the hand and neck doctors, as well as numerous trips for physical therapy on my hand and neck. Things are healing and recovering as expected, though slower than I might have thought or hoped. The stiff neck persisted for some weeks, and it was a couple of weeks before I tried to drive, four to six weeks before I could resume tennis and cycling (I did engage in a spinning regimen to try to stay fit). I counted the days (about 40) until they could remove the two pins from my hand.

There's still a bump on the bone on my little finger metacarpal. It is totally functional, but it is stiff in the morning and the grip isn't as strong. My neck seems totally healed--not sure if there is residual stiffness as it never was very limber. I still have ringing in my left ear and noticeable hearing loss--but improved from previously. Doctors say some healing will take a year--it has been seven months.

Psychological effects still persist. I'm not as confident on the bike, go slower down hills or generally when I don't feel I control all variables. At intersections I am more nervous about cars pulling out in front of me, for example. I've not been on a group ride or in a paceline since the accident, but it will come. I still have no memory of the actual impact or couple of minutes afterwards.

In some ways my injuries and (lack of) bicycle damage are puzzling. The bike had very minimal damage--scrapes on the brake lever and knocked out of kilter. Relatively minor road rash on my knees, but significant damage on both hands (one broken). No significant bruising torso or legs. Neck and left side head injuries. I speculate that the rider behind impacted with me and landed with his weight on me (not my bike), which made the trauma more severe than it might have been. Last I knew, he also had no memory of the impact but I will ask him again. Fortunately, it was on a very low traffic road, though a doctor did drive by right afterwards (fortunately).

Overall it has been a very interesting, enlightening, and novel experience, if not one I would choose. Being unconscious and "dreaming", the subsequent calm and semi-lucid feelings, the help, kindness, and love from friends, strangers, medical professionals, and family. Being in the hospital, broken bones, operation, physical therapy, huge medical bills. I have a profound new appreciation for all of these things, and greater empathy for others experiencing similar.

The Good Samaritan

Yesterday I related the tale of my bicycle crash and subsequent hospital stay. Today I'd like to reflect upon it and how it gave me a new perspective and appreciation for the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10).

Like the "certain man" in the parable, I lay wounded on the road, "half dead". My cycling buddies attended to my immediate needs, protected me from traffic, called 911, called my wife, gave comfort, and ultimately took care of my bicycle and repaired it before returning it to me. A total stranger, a doctor, stopped her car at the scene and gave immediate attention and assurance, and provided a towel. The emergency personnel did their job efficiently, gathering me up, doing initial triage, protecting my back and neck, and instilling confidence and comfort.

The emergency room personnel were competent and reassuring, and kind (saving my jacket, for instance). They were accommodating for private time with family visitors. Suzanne and Blair (wife and son) rushed over and gave comfort. A home teacher came and gave a priesthood blessing.

The nursing staff in the regular wing were skilled and extremely caring. Several times I felt they went beyond customary duties to make me feel comfortable and reassured. I felt confident that the doctors and medical staff were all competent and that I was in good hands.

After returning home there were numerous well wishes, cards, and treats delivered. And heartfelt prayers offered in my behalf. Here is an example of a card composed by the primary children in my ward.



"But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him,
And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him."

Bicycle mayhem

Last year I wrote a post about a bicycle crash I experienced, and noted it was my only real accident in over two decades of serious cycling. I had thought I should be good for another couple of decades of accident free riding. But it wasn't to be.

On April 2 of this year I was 3rd in a paceline of four cyclists on a lonely country road in wet conditions. The lead cyclist slowed unexpectedly, we got bunched up, and the fourth rider crashed into me. I have no memory of the impact, nor of the few minutes immediately following. But I clearly went down quite hard.

While unconscious I felt like I was dreaming and still riding my bike on similar roads. I awoke on my back with a lady leaning over me, reassuring me she was a doctor and an ambulance was on the way. I had a neck injury and wasn't to move. I felt oddly calm and at peace, and a little out of it. My hands hurt quite a bit and there was blood seeping through my gloves. I was relieved to see I could move and feel my hands and legs.

The ambulance personnel lifted me carefully into the vehicle and started asking me questions, which I thought I answered fine, except I thought it odd that I wasn't sure what year it was. I was lucid enough to recognize they weren't taking me to the nearest hospital, but to the trauma unit at Emanuel Hospital in Portland.

Once there I continued to feel calm and reassured that I was in the hands of professionals. They cut my clothes off, being careful of my back and neck. I was relieved they asked about and followed through with saving my nice jacket from cutting.

Suzanne, Blair, and home teachers arrived soon and provided company and a blessing. My hands and full bladder (from IVs, I'm sure) were my primary discomforts, while my neck grew increasingly stiff. Eventually I was wheeled to xray and scanning machines to assess my injuries, and checked into a regular room.

Later that day they tried to set my broken 5th metacarpal in my hand, no luck. They stitched up a deep gash in my other hand. Preliminary news on my neck was that C7 was broken, but manageable. I think it was the next day before I was reassured it wouldn't require surgery and was in a relatively benign location. Surgery for my hand was scheduled for early the day after, so I ended up spending two nights in the hospital. The stiff neck was horrendous and it was a chore to rise often to urinate due to the extensive IV solutions.

Here is the helmet that most assuredly saved me from more serious injury.



I believe this was after my hand surgery.

Gat no heat

Yesterday morning there was a puddle of ice on our back deck. And, for the first time since March or perhaps April, warm air coming from the heater ducts in our house.

We have a heat pump, which efficiently heats in winter and cools in summer. We had a rather mild summer so never turned it on. So the unit has been sitting idle for about seven months. I'm not sure that is entirely good for it, but I was relieved when it kicked on without a fuss.

There were only a few very hot days (90's) this summer, and we utilized ceiling and portable fans to manage our comfort. When the temperatures dropped the past couple of weeks we wore jackets inside and held out for November 1st. It didn't get below 60 inside, and seemed to hover around 63 the past few days. In our bedroom we actually open our window at night and enjoy the refreshing cold while cozy under our down comforters.

We have enjoyed our reduced electricity bills the past months, and feel a sense of satisfaction for our sacrifice and economy.

Halloween memories

Another Halloween has come and gone. Perhaps my best memories are when our own children were young and we would go around the neighborhood with them. Below is a picture of Teresa and Steven in 1994. One year we had the whole Juhasz clan visiting for Halloween. Some years would be wet, or windy, or both. This year is was rather nice, if a bit chilly.


I'm sad that we don't get as many trick or treaters come to our door as in years past. This year we had 21, and all but two came by 7:15PM. The upside is that I can overbuy Snicker bars and snack on them the following weeks.

I also miss extracting our 10% tax by choosing some of our favorite candy from our children's haul.

I'm also sad that our own children are grown, but now we have grandchildren who come over and we can go around the neighborhood with. Here are Brooklyn, Eli, and Jonah.

Some of our neighbors go all out with decorations. One has strung wire high across the street for hanging ghosts and other creatures. This one is rather creepy.

Such a fun holiday. Though I feel sorry for all the school teachers on Nov. 1, dealing with overtired children on sugar highs.