The bike is still in process, as you may or may not be able to tell, but it now is rideable. I still need to rig up the front derailleur to the STI shifter, as well as mess around with how the rear derailleur is cabled to the shifter. It is a Frankenstein sort of ordeal, but I've thus far learned a lot about how to build a bike. At this point, I've replaced a bottom bracket and crankset, quill stem adapter and handlebar, cassette, derailleurs and chain. On top of that, I went through the barbaric motions of coldsetting the rear of the frame, in order that my wheel would actually slide in without undue force. It worked. I am now riding it and have forged through the first downpour of the long season to come. Speaking of, I just ordered my rain gear. A cycling jacket, helmet cover, and rain pants - all breathable and waterproof.
As far as pickling is concerned, I have been equally busy. There are, as I speak, jars and buckets bubbling away with special bacterial activity. Following the tongue-tingling excitement of my first peppery relish, I decided to go hotter, make it into some sort of mind-bending hot sauce with the added benefit of probiotics. It worked, to a point. It was delicious and hot, but the bend it inflicted on the mind was mild comparable to a true hot sauce. All the same it worked deliciously as a sort of face-reddening chip dip. I started pickles, and finished them. They have been steadily escaping the jar since arriving in the fridge, mostly due to my own insatiable urges. I am fermenting another bucket right now. It sits atop the fridge, silently vibrating. Also going right now is something new. A local seller of fermented things made something that intrigued me. Salsa, without the tomato, fermented. I used the hot peppers, cabbage, beet, carrot, onion, garlic and lemon zest. I have yet to truly try it, but I am hopeful. It looks gorgeous. This last Saturday, at the farmer's market less than a black away, I crept up to the stand where they sell peppers. When I say they sell peppers, I mean it. Something like twenty feet of doubled up boxes of peppers, arrayed in order from sweet to mild to hot to uber-hot. I hit the latter of these, and was greeted by the beautiful bulbous bodies of the different habenero varieties. I touched them longingly, knowing what lay within, the amount of pain and pleasure it was able to inflict. My seratonin levels surged a bit just to feel. These still sit on my counter, ready to be used, to be bathed in brine and given to the spirit of the ferment. This will happen. Soon.
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