The Sacrifice

It's amazing what you will do - or not do -for your kids. I am not talking about giving your son the strawberries that come so infrequently from the garden so you only get a sniff as it passes by or sacrificing most of the peas the come from the same garden. No I am talking about the camera dipping, falling down the stairs sacrifice. Let me explain. On Sunday we went to my parents' house to celebrate a number of birthdays. My parents set up their kiddie pool and no birthday with kiddie pool is complete without water fights and my brother putting me in it. I was smart enough to take my iPhone out of my pocket, but I had my camera in my pocket for all those photographic moments. My son and my niece (who was just itching for her dad to put me in the water) started to splash me and then run away. So I ran after my guy and scooped him up, telling him I was going to drop him in head first. Sadly, I lost my balance and thought 'I am actually going to drop him head first and either break his neck or drown him' so I turned and landed in the pool, saving him but taking my camera for a swim. My camera - and card - is still sitting in a bag of rice drying out. I just pulled out the battery this morning and am charging it and, fingers crossed, the camera will turn back on. But more importantly, I am hoping my pictures can be retrieved. Then last night, my son got out of bed and was showing me a hole in his thumb. He apparently pulled out a sliver and I wanted to make sure he got it all out. So I picked him up and started to go down the stairs. I missed the bottom step and rolled on my ankle. I rolled somehow in mid-air, landing on said ankle but somehow saving my guy. Pre-kids I would have cried my eyes out, likely issued the rarely used swear word and been a mess the rest of the night. I did not cry last night, I merely asked my husband what my ankle looked like and suggested it was likely broken. And then, as I was lying on the floor, I made sure my guy was OK, looked at his boo-boo and listened to him tell me about his cheek, which he claimed he hit on the way down despite the fact the bansiter in question is on the other side of the stairs. While I did sit with my foot up, I also helped put our son back in bed and will carry on with my day today. Just call me camera-less limpy. PS - Is anyone else having troubles with spacing in blogger? I have put in double spacing and it's still one graph.

Welcome back, wonderful strawberries

The signs are up - strawberries are red, juicy and ready.

Oh, strawberries, how I love you. Well we appreciate you, California strawberries, particularly in the deep of winter, you just can't compare to an Ontario-grown strawberry - different sizes, juicy dripping down your fingers and never knowing if this one will be super sweet or unfortunately sour.

This year, our garden strawberries are producing more than last year, although not enough to keep us all fed with the red goodness, and my guy always wins when deciding who gets the freshly picked one.

But I vow I will be going to a field this week and either picking my own or having some picked for me.

Welcome back, strawberries. I am so happy to see you.

PS - Sorry for the lack of pictures. I ate the three strawberries on my counter before I thought to snap one.