11
June
Wordless wednesday – At Beaver camp
27
May
Was it the price?
The time that we spent living in India taught me that we can live, and live happily, with a lot less stuff. As a result, I have spent much of the last year and a half gathering things that we no longer need, and making plans to get rid of them. The reasons why I haven’t been disposing of items as I come across them vary, but most start with an L and end with –azy.
This spring brought with it a renewed interest in getting rid of this stuff. Although I was pretty certain that it was all ready to go, the fact that none of it has been touched in a year and a half has solidified that perception. So I set about getting it out of the house. Given that most items are in good shape, I decided to Freecycle the bulk of the stuff. I wouldn’t have to deal with the hassles of online selling, would be reasonably certain that someone wouldn’t be profiting of off my goods, and would keep these still useful items out of the landfill.
The problem is, people say that they WANT my free stuff, but then they don’t come when they say they will, or, as has been the case with almost every item that I have posted, they just plain never come at all. No explanation, no apology, no show. It makes giving stuff away a very frustrating experience. The worst part of all is that I can’t even get all pissy with the no-shows, even though I really want to, given that I have given these people my address to ensure that they can come and get the stuff.
So I sit and grumble as I wait for yet another pick-up that is an hour late. I rushed home so that I would be here when they said they would be. My children miss out on their tuck-ins, as I am sure that the person will be here any minute, and the only thing worse than a missed tuck-in is an aborted one. I’m cranky. So if you are looking for a stroller, a bedrail, a stairmaster, or an entertainment cabinet, you better come when you say you will, or they will be at the curb on Friday morning, when I am certain that the garbage truck will cart them away. For free.
28
April
Woo’s bad day
We are lucky to have pretty happy go lucky lil people. They are rarely in bad moods, and when those moods do happen, they rarely last for long. All it generally takes is some silliness, some food, or some silly food and we can reset. My grumpy funks are rarely cured so easily.
This past weekend, Woo woke up in an ornery mood. He didn’t want to do anything, despite the fun adventures that we were proposing for the day. We tried to work with him, but in the end decided to head to Bate Island. It’s a family favourite, especially if there are kayakers, paddle boarders and other crazy water enthusiast riding the standing waves on the north side of the island. Woo was adamant that he was not going to get out of the car, so we told him that was fine. If there is any place where we can easily watch him and still enjoy our time it’s there.
We arrived and noted that there were people in the waves, but parked on the far side of the island and Willy, Goose, and I left Woo to walk around the island. As I suspected, Woo was watching, and ran across to join us as we approached the queue to ride the waves. We all watched for a while, but then Woo decided he wanted to go back to the car, so Willy handed him the keys and he ran off.
He returned a few minutes later, and Willy asked where the keys were. Woo gave that patented seven-year-old shrug, and offered up an “in the car?” as a response. He and Willy set off searching, and as they walked away, I heard Willy ask if he’d locked the car. I had my answer when I saw that Willy was standing beside the car, on the phone.
Woo had locked the keys in the car. On Easter Sunday. Thankfully, Willy was able to get a cab to come get him, and was back with the keys in no time at all. It likely wasn’t the cheapest way to solve the problem, but given that we were stuck on an island in the middle of the Ottawa River with the Lils on a chilly mid-April day, it was the right solution.
Despite the setback, all of us were in a good mood by the time the car was unlocked, and the rest of the day went off without a hitch, until we went for a bike ride after dinner. Generally the lils go for a meandering ride through the neighbourhood, while Willy and I walk behind. It gives them some independence, as they race up and down the streets, and loop around some blocks without us, and lets us have some adult conversation.
All was going well on this particular walk until Woo wobbled as he passed a parked car. I thought that he had just bumped the car with his elbow, but we noted a big scratch on the side of the car as we walked up to it, then confirmed with Woo that his handle bar, the one with the exposed metal on the end of the hand grip had scraped along the car. Willy rang the doorbell and we all apologized to the owners, then gave them our contact information so that they could send us the bill for what was likely to be a costly repair. That brush that had looked so innocent had left a deep scratch on a relatively new car.
As we slowly made our way home, we commiserated to ourselves about what had become a very expensive weekend, and spent some time talking over what had happened with the lils, stressing that they needed to be careful of all things on the roads when they are biking. They listened and responded appropriately. It’s a conversation that we have had before, but we felt that they now had a concrete example to reflect on.
As we got close to home, Woo approached another parked car on the road. “Dad, do you wanna see what happened when I went crazy?” he asked. “No!” shouted Willy as he stood between Woo and the car, “I can’t afford a Volvo!!”
