I went biking. Kinda.

As I've mentioned before, I don't bike. However, I live in a city surrounded by bike enthusiasts. Two of those enthusiasts are my good friends, Scott and Elysha, who recently visited The Cargo Bike Shop and invested in a highly coveted WorkCycle Kr8 like this:

Why yes, this is a bike with a giant bucket.

Elysha has been biking around town sporting a bucket filled with two children, groceries, library books, and an assortment of other things that fit in its spacious compartment. And by "spacious compartment," I meant this: large enough to hold an adult.

So, it happened: I went on a bike ride, but I was not pedaling the bike. Instead, I sat in a bucket and Elysha pedaled me around her Near East Side neighborhood.

Always wear a helmet! 

I got in the bucket and we were ready to go:

Side view of the contraption.

And we were off! Here are videos of the ride from two perspectives:

We made it back safely!

Elysha's celebratory reaction to me riding in a bike.

Now that this has happened, it gives me a new answer to the common Madison question, "Do you bike?" Thanks to my biker friends, I can now say, "I don't bike, but I have been pedaled around in a bucket."

Turkey traffic jam: a story in photos.

I heard the stories and saw the photos, but we never crossed paths until today. That's right: I finally encountered the famed urban turkeys of Madison, WI. My fascination started when my friend Scott (he lives under a mile away) took a photo of them in his front yard. It was then that I knew I needed to meet the turkeys, take a turkey selfie, and write about these unique feathered friends.

Today's turkey selfie.

Madison's turkeys are city-dwelling birds who freely (and at times irreverently) roam streets and neighborhoods. My friend Elysha recently saw them chase her mailman. It's a feisty bunch.

Through the Turkeys of Madison, WI Facebook group, I watched their travels and learned about their favorite local places. It was in this group where I learned that the turkeys are fond of the drive thru at the Schenk's Corners branch of Monona State Bank. When I passed the bank on my way home today, there they were: the fab 4 in all their glory.

I wasn't the only person who stopped to photograph the birds. I may have been the only one to take 34 photos, though. I'll take you through some highlights (click photos to enlarge):

The fab 4 took a leisurely walk to the bank drive thru.

They did some preening, strutting, and fluffing.

There wasn't enough excitement at the bank, so they headed into the street. 

An ambulance came and they refused to move. Sirens and horns meant nothing to the turkeys. 

Then, the traffic came. 

And the traffic stopped.

And a kind civilian shooed the turkeys out of the way. 

Nice guy. All the turkeys made it safely to the sidewalk.

As I walked back to my car, the turkeys returned to the street and blocked a bus. They refused to move, so the bus had to back up and go around them. Turkeys own the neighborhood!

I really couldn't have asked for a better first turkey encounter. Hopefully I will see them more often, take more photos with them, and capture video footage of local gobbling. This city is weird.

Resolution complete: I milked a cow.

A lot of people get really into New Year's resolutions. I don't. Yet for 2014, I made one that I 100% intended to follow through on: I wanted to milk a cow. Many people have asked me why I wanted to do this so badly. Here is my reasoning:

1. I LOVE BARNYARD ANIMALS.
2. It's good to try new things.
3. It would be an awesome experience to blog about.

I'm an urban girl. I was born in Boston, Massachusetts and grew up in the busy, typical, cookie-cutter suburbs of Charlotte, North Carolina. You know the opening sequence to the show, Weeds? Yeah, that's my hometown: the traffic, the strip malls, the Land Rovers, the soccer moms… all are very familiar things to me. I'm a city dweller to my very core, and I think that's why farm life fascinates me: because it's different.

Cue the Green Acres theme song.

I met Farmer John Dougherty of Farmer Johns' Cheese at the East Side Farmers' Market in May. I gathered that by his large variety of delicious cheese for sale, he likely had access to a great deal of cows. So I asked if I could milk one. He said yes! Two months later, I was off to the outskirts of Spring Green, Wisconsin to visit the official Farmer Johns' milking barn.

Let's get one thing straight: there's more than one Farmer John (hence the apostrophe). It's currently operated by a father and son (both named John), and before that, it was operated by the generations that came first (yup, you got it, also named John). This is a true family farm business, right down to the name.

My friends Cherie and Caitlin came along for the ride, which took us through some winding country roads to this really awesome waterfall:

Beautiful!

Then, we arrived at John's milking barn. He walked us through the cow-filled building and told us all about his family farm, the milking process, and all things cows!

The lineup: Farmer John gets the cows into the barn by leading them in with corn (they love it).
See the pipes above the cows? That's where the milk goes.

After it goes through the pipes, it ends up in a huge tank.
We all climbed up the ladder to peek in.

It holds an insane amount of milk.

After our barn tour, we got to meet two baby calves, Jenny and Ryan:

Beyond adorable.

Then, it was milking time. The cows are milked by machine, but of course we had to start off old school. Farmer John chose Faith as the best cow for us to milk. He knew that her mellow temperament would work in our favor and that she was less likely to try and kick us (he has a lot of cows in this place, and many can get sassy at milking time). He noted that you always have to let the cow know when you're at her side and going to milk her. This way, she's less startled. Of course, I had to get the experience on tape:

Then Caitlin milked Faith!

And Cherie, too! 

Old school milking: check. Then, Farmer John let me put the milking machine on Faith. It's made of 4 little suction tubes that go from the udders to the pipes in the barn.

Just making sure I had everything right.

Voila! I attached the milking machine and Faith was ready to go.

A lot of cows had to be milked, so we went to the front of the barn to check in on the tank. It was very loud in there, but I fit in a quick video of "THIS IS WHERE THE MILK IS GOING! HERE'S THE MILK!"

The entire milking process takes about 30 minutes from the first cow to the last. The cows get milked twice a day (6am and 6pm), and Farmer John noted that he tries to keep the cows in the same order each time so that their schedules are consistent. I could really tell that he loves what he does and cares about the well-being of his cows, which of course makes me want to keep buying more and more of his cheese.

Speaking of the cheese, to purchase some amazing dairy goodness from Farmer John, he can be found at the Dane County Farmers' Market (near West Washington Ave), as well as many other local markets.

I'd like to send a huge thanks to Farmer John for letting us visit, Cherie and Caitlin for putting up with their quirky friend, and of course, this lovely lady:

Many thanks, Faith!

It snows in March. This is how I deal with it.

In the other places where I've lived, snow in March was out of the question. But Dorothy, we're not in North Carolina anymore. This is Wisconsin, where March is fair game for frost and flurries.

Thankfully, I'm equipped for these circumstances. My full-length parka (aka "mega coat") keeps me warm when I'm out and about, but at home, it's all about the fireplace. 

Rocco likes staying nice and warm, too.

No spring weather yet? No problem. 

Bucky Badger owns this town, part 2: a sea of red.

As I've said before, Bucky Badger owns this town. He's everywhere: in stores, on cars, and gracing the packaging of locally made foods.

When my mom and our friend Pat came to visit, they had the privilege of meeting cardboard Bucky at Hilldale Shopping Center:

Wisconsinites love their Bucky, and the Hilldale skeleton greeter shares in the spirit:

Even this ghoulish bag of bones is supporting Bucky with a UW hat.

I live in the land of Bucky and I have gotten used to his constant presence (and hey, red is my favorite color). With that said, after 2.5 years of Madison residency, I should have known better than to drive to the West Side of Madison on the day of UW's homecoming.

I just wanted to go to Trader Joe's. My intentions were honorable.

But instead of a breezy 10-minute ride on a Saturday, I wound up in a 40-minute ride through a sea of red-clad Badger fans.

Badger fans crossing the street and heading for the stadium.

Badger fans tailgating in the parking lot of my doctor's office
(I later found more in the parking lot of my veterinarian's office).

Some may wonder why I didn't just turn around and go home, but here's how I saw it: I'm a busy gal. My weekdays are packed with working full time, skating practice, and still managing to socialize with friends. Saturday afternoon is always errand time for me, and with the sunny 70-degree weather, I was perfectly happy sitting in traffic with the windows down and enjoying some Alt Nation. It was a nice breather, and I found the extreme fandom fascinating. Thankfully I drive a red car, otherwise I would have been very out of place in my black Madonna T-shirt.

Just as I had planned, I made it to Trader Joe's and got my groceries. It just happened to be by way of a leisurely, interesting drive.

My friend Michal is a huge Bucky fan and she snapped a great shot from Camp Randall Stadium:

100 yards surrounded by red, red, red. 

Although I don't follow football, I try to stay in the know on whether Bucky won or lost. Living a block away from One Barrel Brewing Company helps, as the style of screaming from the bar clearly indicates glory or despair. This week? Glory screams in celebration of a UW triumph.

It's Bucky's territory (I just live in it).

We don't fit in here: my day trip to the land of cheese heads.

When I read that the US Collegiate Figure Skating Championships were coming to De Pere, WI, I knew I had to go watch. A 2 hour drive to watch a day of great skating would be well worth it, and my friend (and fellow skater) Katie was happy to go along for the ride.

When Amie (my supervisor and a De Pere native) heard that I'd be spending the day on her home turf, she recommended that we stop at Lambeau Field to visit the Packers Pro Shop. We didn't have to be at the rink until 1:00, so we left Madison with time to visit the historic football field.

Wow. That's really all I have to say.

Okay, I'll say a little more. I had never seen Green Bay Packers fans in their native environment. Even though it was just "family day" during Packers training camp, the entire venue was an intense sea of green and yellow. Katie and I felt very out of place in grey. I didn't dare utter the phrase, "I don't care about football," because I feared I would be attacked.

This was the line for temporary team spirit tattoos.
It wasn't even a game day.

Let me just get this out in the open: I have never been to an NFL football game, nor do I ever plan to go to one (Close your mouths! I'd rather spend the cash on major figure skating events... sorry, football fans).

The vibe was all Packers, all the time. Everyone wore green shirts had such a sense of pride in the team. Total strangers were sharing this common bond of Packers Pride, and it was unlike anything I had seen before. The city felt like one big family: one big spirited, beer-drinking, green and yellow family.

Once I settled into my culture shock, Katie and I explored the venue.

The Lambeau Field logo at one of the gates.

A lot of fans were posing with this statue, so I felt like it was the right thing to do.

I don't know why this buffalo was wearing a team jersey, but it seemed worthy of documentation.

The Packers logo (saw a huge one on the side of a house, too).

A view of the atrium.

And then, we arrived at the Packers Pro Shop. The fandom in here was overwhelming. If anyone needs to buy Packers clothing, toys, or home decor, this is clearly the place to go. The shop gets so busy that they have one door devoted to entrances, one door devoted to exits, and security guards directing the traffic.

A view of the shop.

And, well, you knew it was coming:

We found some cheese hats to wear! Finally, we were fitting in.

Now THAT was a true Wisconsin experience. It was definitely new for me to experience the Packers to this level of intensity, and I can only imagine how wild it gets on game day.

Daily sconnie fix: check. Then, we were off to the Nicolet Restaurant, followed by the competition at Cornerstone Community Ice Arena. Two skating competitions and a dog show were happening simultaneously at the venue (pretty hilarious that dogs and skaters competed in the same place). The event was great, and we saw a near-clean program from 2008 US Bronze Medalist, Stephen Carriere. Awesome day!

Snow day: adulthood style.

It's my second winter in Madison, and all the locals say that it's my first real winter. Though last year seemed quite snowy and chilly, it was apparently a light one. But this year, I'm in for a true Wisconsin winter, and Middleton (on the west side of Madison) has already been hit with almost 20 inches of snow.

It started last night, right as I was heading out of Stitch 'n Bitch at Take 5 (our new meeting place). I parked my car safely in my heated garage, where I plan to leave it until Saturday.

This morning, I bundled up, laced up my snow boots, and trudged the 0.8 mile walk to work (it seems much longer in the snow, trust me). Many folks didn't make it into the office, but those of us who live close by braved the storm. After a few hours, we were sent home because the snow was expected to get worse. I bundled up again and made it home, noting that the bike path is a good place to walk because the surrounding trees catch a lot of the snow before it hits the ground. Both of my outdoor trips today were livened up by my neighbor's puppy, Milo, who absolutely loves playing in the snow.

An afternoon view from my balcony, before round 2 of the snow really hit.

I took some writing and editing work home, and I must say it was refreshing to work in a different environment. It's tough to be creative at a desk every day. Also, the cats thoroughly enjoyed having me home early.

Jupiter was hard at work editing, but found that mechanical pencils require opposable thumbs.

Phoebe is too pretty to work, so she opted to lounge instead.

Once I got my work done, I discovered what adult snow days are all about:

Watching way too much Nip/Tuck,

painting my nails (OPI's Can You Tapas This?), and

taking a nice hot bath with some amazing vegan soap (Lush's Sea Vegetable).

A pretty amazing afternoon. Perhaps winter isn't so devilish, after all.

50 is the new 80 (degrees, that is).

I have lived in Wisconsin for 10 months and it has occurred to me that my general standards of good weather are already starting to change.

When I left work around 5:30pm today and walked outside, I immediately called my mother to tell her about the lovely weather. It's the beginning of March and it's 50 degrees outside.

Ordinarily, I would not consider 50 degree weather in March to be newsworthy. But today in Wisconsin, the aforementioned lovely weather was certainly the talk of the town. I didn't need to completely zip up my jacket or put on gloves: it was sunny and perfect. I proceeded to get in my car, crank up some Florence + the Machine, and roll the windows down to fully savor this much-anticipated climate change.

Okay, let's face it: I'm becoming a Wisconsinite.

Are all Wisconsinites warm-blooded?

Fall is in full effect in Madison. The trees on Mifflin street are donning gorgeous hues of orange while I'm on the prowl in my vegan leather western boots and my favorite vintage coat.

While I believe that I am properly dressed to brave the windy climate, I have observed that many Madisonians tend to disagree with my idea of proper fall clothing. Last week, I saw a mother and daughter perfectly comfortable in flip flops. Today, I saw multiple people wearing short sleeve tees in the parking lot at Target. Isn't it November? Didn't I just put all my summer clothes in a drawer to make room for sweaters in my closet?

This leads me to my question: are all Wisconsinites warm-blooded? Have the sub-zero temperatures and heaps of snowfall made them unaffected by climate change? If yes, I can only hope that I will some day partake in this Wisconsin climate immunization. Until then, I will cozy up in my turtleneck and marvel at the tank tops on passers-by.

The nitty "grit"-y solution to culture shock.

As many readers may know, I was born in Boston and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina. Though I am the product of a Yankee family, spending most of my life in the Upper South rubbed off on me a bit. For example, if I mishear someone, I will often respond with "Huh?" as opposed to "Pardon?". Nobody in Massachusetts says "Huh?". Trust me.

Upon moving to Madison, Wisconsin, I knew I would have to give up a few Southern Comforts. Wisconsin doesn't have an IKEA or an Off Broadway Shoe Warehouse. Also, while there are 38 Cracker Barrels in the state of North Carolina, there are only 5 in the state of Wisconsin. They're trying to limit my access to corn muffins and kitschy seasonal decor, aren't they?

Another comfort that I thought I would have to give up is grits. I am not exactly sure how I developed my love for grits, but I've eaten them regularly for many years, despite the fact that my mother calls them "wallpaper paste." I have lived in Wisconsin for almost 4 months, and despite conscious efforts, I had yet to find grits. Tonight, I struck gold at Woodman's Foods, where I discovered a wide selection of grits. Jackpot!

Phoebe, also a Southern girl, was quite excited about the grits.

For last month's in-depth post on Woodman's Foods, click here.

I refuse to buy a bike.

For those who are reading this who may be uninformed on this topic, Madison, Wisconsin LOVES bikes. They just love the bikes. They're freakin' everywhere. The city is FULL of bike shops. I swear there are more bike shops than grocery stores-- what's up with that?

People in Madison ride their bikes pretty much everywhere, and the bikers and pedestrians totally rule the downtown area. They pedal and walk whenever they want. They don't seem to give a shit about what a traffic sign may say. Anyone using any form of transportation other than a car seems to have the ultimate say in what's going on with the traffic. Car drivers like me are totally in the backseat when it comes to the downtown roads. We have no say. It's not our turf.

But here's the problem: I refuse to buy a bike. I have not ridden a bike since elementary school and I just have no interest in ever doing so again. I enjoy being comfortable in my Volvo. I really do. Also, I have a bad back and hunching over on a bike is no good. I have been a competitive figure skater for 20 years and I have truly sacrificed my body to the sport (yup, you got it, doing unnatural things to your body with the constant risk of falling on ice is in fact detrimental later in life). I truly love skating and I am willing to deal with the pain. It's a blood sport, but it's worth it. BUT... the last thing I need in my life is a bike. I'd wreck my back even more than it's already been wrecked, plus I'd be risking falling over on the pavement (trust me, I fall quite often, and it would definitely happen). I am particularly good at tripping over absolutely nothing. Imagine me on a bike... it's doomed to be dangerous.

I truly wish I had a dollar for every person who has suggested that I buy a bike. I'd be quite wealthy. And for the record, I would definitely invest that money in figure skating, not biking.

An open letter to Madison (WI) about the status of our new relationship.

Dear Madison (WI),

Let me preface this by saying that I am an optimist. I'm a nice person and I'm very easy to get along with... I really am. I'm friendly as hell, just ask any of my friends. My friend Suzy would particularly have an encyclopedia's worth of stories about how insanely friendly I can be sometimes. Seriously, I drive her crazy.

Anyways, I know that we just started our relationship, but I'm already sensing a lot of love/hate from you. You're really not treating me well, which is so sad to me because I've already started to bond with you.

But Madison, where are your gas stations? In my previous relationship with Charlotte (NC), I always appreciated the abundance of gas stations she offered. Madison, what's with the lack of fuel? I know that you're an extremely biker-friendly city, but I have absolutely no interest in riding a bike. I like my car. She's been good to me for quite a few years now. As I said before, I'm a nice person, so I take care of my car and I like to give her plenty of gas to drink. How am I supposed to do this with your ridiculous lack of gas stations?

Oh Madison, where are your supermarkets? Charlotte provided me with many supermarkets, yet you seem to have so few. Yes Madison, I know you have a farmers' market, but they don't sell Chewy granola bars so I truly need a supermarket. While I love that all the Wal Marts and Targets here have a lot of food options (Charlotte needs to work on that), I sometimes like to go to a good old fashioned supermarket. I really don't think this is an unreasonable request. A girl's gotta eat.

I really feel that I could fall in love with you and stay with you forever, but I need you to start compromising with me a bit. I'm 500-900 miles away from all of my friends, I firmly believe that the elevator in my building is haunted, and my car just died (I'm pretty sure she's retaliating at you for not providing her with ample gas station options). Madison, a good relationship requires compromise and you need to help me out here. This is new for both of us. You're probably not used to East Coast girls stomping on your territory, but I'm here now and we're both going to have to live with it. Please get your shit together so that we can continue to grow as a couple.

Sincerely,
Your new resident (aka Aviva)