Excuse my absence but things have been very busy the past week and a half and I've been running around like crazy or too tired to function. Then again, as any parent knows, you're never too tired to function because there is always something that needs to be done. Plus, I can't complain (not that it stops me) because a lot of my turmoil is self-inflicted.
N's hockey season came to a whirlwind end this weekend with a big local tournament. Add in the big snowstorm early in the week, my own hockey and surfing OCD, cat care for two different friends, and a reasonably busy work week, and it's no wonder I feel like I'm barely treading water.
I realize I'm just whining and making excuses but I've got to stay true to my nature, right? N's hockey season ended and I'm feeling somewhat relieved because it's been a season filled with drama and resentment. I won't go into the details but the fact that the other team, the one which I without a doubt feel N should have been on, had the dream season. Thanks again to DW and the board for that one. If there were bright notes to it all, it's that N still worked hard and grew as a player. Unlike his dad, he's got a good head on his shoulders and has a good attitude. I do think that he probably jived better with this group of guys. They weren't the alpha males you get on a superstar team, and in a way it showed because they didn't show up to play for every game and practice. In that sense a lot of them really belonged on this team. On the other hand, the lack of commitment meant that it was a more fun and festive atmosphere. They lost many games that they should have won, but at least they had fun. In the the end they're good kids (at least some of them) and it should be interesting to see where they land.
We had two sets of friends go out of town this weekend and they asked us to watch cats and hens. It's a nice way for N to make some money and have some real world responsibility, but it requires a little traveling on opposite sides of our town. This of course means that dad has to do the driving, and when you've got so many things going on, it's just one more thing for me complain about. I am working on this, much to the disbelief of my kids. Our friends also returned home this weekend and it was a relief to have that off our plates. We did enjoy, however, all the fresh eggs.
We had a crazy snowstorm early in the week which threw off my work week and meant maintenance around the house. Me and N spent an entire day shoveling the driveway and the path to the wood. I would guess that about 2 feet of snow fell, and while it was powdery, there was a lot of it. We also had to shovel out our friends house so we could get to the chickens not to mention their house. This was a little harder because we couldn't get to it for a couple of days because I couldn't find their snow shovels (it turns out they were buried in the snow) and I kept forgetting ours. By the time I got to shoveling it, it was icy and heavy as cement.
I've been researching wetsuits for the kids and my friend said her husband had a bunch of old wetsuits that we could have. I was stoked at the possibility of free wetsuits but also wary of old and dirty used wetsuits. She said she washed a couple but that others were sort of nasty. When I picked them up I could tell that they were probably the wrong size and some were too nasty to even consider putting on, but we'll see. I am wrestling with this one because it's not very practical to buy new suits for something they have not even tried, but buying used wetsuits is tricky business because you really want to get the right size, and used ones can be gross and disgusting. More on this later.
Finally, I've got a new morning obsession in making fresh fruit salad for the family. I know, not a big deal, and do I really need to aspire to be Martha Stewart on top of all the other things in my life? But, the salad is killer, my family loves it, I love it, and what's wrong with aspiring to be Martha Stewart?
More on all of this later. Until then, thanks for reading, and thanks to Benjamin Reay for the pic.