Who doesn’t love a throwback? Today I’m tossing it back to not so long ago but to our very first posts!
Our biggest Scares….
I’m really tempted to be all super cool about this and say the most nerve wracking experience I had was speaking to the Canadian Senate to advocate in favour of amending the Canadian Human Rights Act to include protections for the transgender community. (not even a #humblebrag)
That was nerve wracking! And incredible!
But in truth, my biggest fright was far less suave.
I’m not great in the kitchen. Don’t believe me? Read on.
It happened 5.5 years ago. I know because it was about 6 months before our wedding. I was at my parents home on the weekend and decided to cook some lunch. Only N was home with me.
I started getting my lunch ready. Which for me is almost always a boiled egg, cut fruit and peanut butter and some crackers and cheese.
The boiling of the egg ,while simple for some, eluded me for some time, and growing up, Christmas, Easter and birthdays often meant another tool to help me in properly boiling my eggs solo: an egg thermometer, an egg holder, an egg topper and so on.
So on this day, 6 months before our wedding, I stood, before the stove, tools ready, in my pyjamas, fuzzy slippers and, having just finished showering, a towel around my shoulders to keep my wet hair off my nice pyjamas.
Brought the water to a boil. Full marks.
Placed the egg in the boiling water. No problem.
Waited about 4 minutes. Perfect.
Removed the egg. I’m on fire.
Literally! ON FIRE!
Flames were wrapping up the length of the towel on my head.
I threw the towel down. Breathed in, breathed out.
MORE FLAMES. My pyjamas were on fire!
I yelled for my sister.
Then, stop drop and roll, and the fire was out.
I ran upstairs and jumped in the shower, tattered pyjamas and all. Niamh took care of the fire downstairs and I eventually left the shower…eventually.
The burns weren’t permanent and there wasn’t even a scar on our wedding day.
But the soft boiled egg continues to be my Everest.
So, for those, who like me, are challenged by the soft boiled egg, a few words of advice: Don’t be fooled that the flat surface stoves are safe; don’t wear a towel around your shoulders in front of the stove; don’t cook on the back burner while wearing a towel around your shoulders; don’t reach across the stove with a towel on your shoulders; don’t think your little sister can save you from the flames – just immediately STOP DROP and ROLL.
P.S. Niamho says always keep a big vase filled with water and flowers on the table to combat flames
Niamho’s Biggest Scare!
I get spooked pretty easily! I nearly jump out of my skin if someone walks into the room too quietly or if there’s an eerie sound of any kind! By being a huge scaredy cat I have many Big Scares, including a mistaken identity phone call about Ais…but that story is for another day.
House on Haunted Hill, 1959.
Today, I will tell you about the time my mother and I got hit by a monster storm at the cottage. Mum and I were enjoying a beautiful day puttering around the cottage, at 4pm we quit working and went down to the beach to enjoy 4sies (mandatory lounging and indulging time).
As I begin to relax into my chair, it became a little windier. I look up and can see black clouds in the distance, far enough away not to be worried. Thirty seconds later I could hear crashing thunder and raindrops pelting the lake as the storms begins to race across the lake right towards us!
Now, the sky is completely black, the chairs on the deck are blowing away. We are trying to pack up our stuff, as the trees are bending and making cracking sounds around us. As I am no Helen Hunt in Twister, I just begin to run, yelling to my mum ‘leave the sun umbrella!’ We both start running up the hill, but the wind is pushing us back. We try to pull each other along as we see lawn ornaments lift from the ground. We make it to the door, both of us pulling on it, we need all our strength to pull it open, we tumble in on top of each other and BAM! The storm hits the door behind us, it is on top of us now. We can feel the cottage quiver from trees landing on the roof and it sounds like the cottage is ripping apart, we see trees and chairs fly across the window in front of us. It felt like Wizard of Oz, when the cows and the Wicked Witch fly in front of Dorothy’s window.
Wizard of Oz, 1939.
Still shaking, I look at Mum and think if this is how we are going down, we might as well go in style! So I pour us some sangria.
About 10 minutes later the storm was done, still alive and cottage intact.
It was a beautiful, sunny, summer day. The kind of day that is begging you to go outside and enjoy it. Big white fluffy clouds, warm sun and the slightest of breezes… I thought it would be a lovely day to go visit Niamho and hangout in our parents backyard.
I had just arrived and was sitting in the bright kitchen chatting and waiting for the tea to boil.
When all of a sudden right behind me there’s a BAM! Thump!
Niamho’s eyes were bulging in shock. I was terrified to turn around and see what could’ve made this sound.
— now, anyone who knows me knows I have an irrational fear of birds. Absolutely terrified of these beady-eyed, taloned feet, sharp beaked creatures–
So as I turn around on this beautiful sunny day to see what had hit our window I see the biggest Robin flapping back and forth with its massive wing stuck in our wooden deck.
I swear this feathered demon had to be the size of the hippogriff from Harry Potter.
I’m sweating and before I even know what is happening I hear the words “Niamho, get the work gloves from the garage.” I look around to see who the brave soul that is going to rescue us and then I come to the horrible realization that I was the insane person who had spoken up. Niamho returns with the gloves and I’m sweating and shaking even more now, with tears in my eyes I approached the beast. I go out the door and hear it quickly slam behind me with a quiet little click to know that I’m locked out.
I’ve been stranded.
Abandoned by my own sister.
I am face-to-face with the beast.
It vs me.
So with my armour on I approach. My legs slowly give out underneath me. I dropped to one knee…then the other and I’m terrified. I am screaming, I am crying and I am way too close!!
Blinded from my tears; body quivering I go and PICK UP THE BIRD!!!!!!!
The beast is flapping it’s wings at me and squawking and quickly flies away totally unharmed. Leaving me on the porch still shaking and crying but now laughing in between sobs. I couldn’t believe I had done it. To this day I still can’t believe I have done it. Writing this I am still shaking a little thinking of my biggest scare but I also remember how empowered I felt. So just remember no matter how big or small your scare is at least you’ll have a good first blog post.
Tell us, what’s your biggest scare?