Homemade mozza sticks are kicking my ass.
So the baby and I took to the trails to make up for all the ooey-gooey-fried-mozzarella-goodness.*
Sylvia's first ski
Doing my part to get my kid outside.
*I made a huge batch, but instead of frying them all at once (I’ve made that mistake before) I froze them all so I can enjoy them
two or three six or eight at a time. Tonight I spritzed them with olive oil and baked them at 475 deg F and they were even more divine. And crunchy. Yum.
Have I told you about our Chariot?
Our Chariot is amazing. It’s 7 years old and you’d never know. We bought it used, and quickly got rid of the other three strollers in our collection. (Yes, three. I’m not proud of it but there you have it.) Chariots are made in Canada, and are suited to all kinds of outdoor activities.
My name is Sylvia and I approve of this Chariot
It’s great for adventures, like berry-picking and Boxing Day hikes to the ends of the earth.
The End Of The Earth a.k.a. Cape Spear
The Chariot has strolling wheels, a jogging wheel, a bicycle hitch, aaaaand……
The skis were a Christmas gift from my parents. They can accurately be described as cross-country ski fanatics. I don’t know who’s more excited about the snow – them, or the baby.
Ohmigod! Snow! this is the best thing ever! I've been waiting my whole life for something like this!
However, we just need another few inches of white stuff to take the Chariot outside.
Can't wait to try it out on something other than the kitchen floor*
*Exhibit A, proving just how tiny our house is. That’s the Chariot in the kitchen and me craning around the corner from the porch.
A basic human right. Then why is it so hard to come by?
I mean, we’re surrounded by it.
Water, water everywhere
Nor any drop to drink
The saga began Boxing Day when we had a call from our summer neighbour. She heard through the grapevine that her pump house had blown over in the Nor’Easter. The same pump house we share and draw on for all our water. A few more calls confirmed the house was down and the electrical had to be cut.
Two and a half weeks later, after one denied insurance claim and one denied electrical certificate, we finally got an electrician to replace the wiring and Newfoundland Power to hook up the pole.
Three days later, our pipes are frozen and we again have no water. Bonus? I didn’t wash the breakfast dishes. Do you know how hard it is to clean dried infant cereal off tiny rubber baby spoons? Near impossible, that’s how hard.
Tomorrow I’m going to have to unearth the frozen line coming into the house and train a heat gun on it long enough to thaw.
Stupid water. Stupid pipes. Stupid below-freezing temperatures. Stupid winter.*
*The frustration is apparently manifesting itself by curbing my vocabulary. My apologies. But how would you feel if you had no water? Think about it. Here’s a short list of things you can’t do when the pipes are frozen:
1. Cook pasta
2. Make a cup of tea
3. Have a shower or bath
4. Brush your teeth
5. Do laundry
6. Wash dishes (Not so torn up about that one)
7. Wipe your baby’s face with a damp cloth after meals
8. Flush the toilet
9. Wash your hands
10. Rinse your shirt of baby spit
11. Make ice cubes
12. Make hot chocolate
13. Keep a pot of water on the wood stove as a humidifier
14. Wash cloth diapers
15. Add a splash of water to your drink
I know I’m still more fortunate than many. According to the WHO, almost 20 per cent of the global population still doesn’t have access to clean drinking water. Feel free to tell me and my frozen pipes to shut the hell up.