Karma Police in Riot Gear

I do not, as my blog may suggest, get into trouble so I have something to write about. I write because, after years of the odd and the awkward happening to me, I have finally taken my friends advise to "write this $#!+ down!".

Easter weekend, a time to share and celebrate with family. Even better if you can celebrate with the friends you choose to replace your family with. After months of trying to coordinate schedules, I was very excited to have a firm invitation to the home of a dear friend, who happens to be half of one of my favourite married couples. I was especially looking forward to it as it was to be their first meeting with my guy.

In preparation for the day and to alleviate the trouble of cooking for pain-in-the-a$$ vegetarians, I spent all Saturday cooking and prepping. Vegetarian Moroccan stew, always a pleaser, and pre-ferment for fresh French loafs. Up early Sunday morning, take the dough out to lose its chill, coffee on and fire up the laptop to watch Paris-Roubaix, my favourite bike race (Chapeau Tommeka, great to see you back on form!). A fabulous way to spend Sunday morning. Post race, I whipped up some banana and hazelnut crepes, finished the dough and left it to rise and got started on dessert - my first attempt at strawberry and kiwi Pavlova. It was all going fine.

The Pavlova took longer than expected and so the baguettes went in late. I HATE being late, it really, really stresses me out. I composed a very apologetic message and started on the whip cream to top the Pavlova while the bread was baking. That I chose to use the old stand mixer would turn out to be my second error in judgment that day. The problem with kitchen multitasking is in the details. The big detail being that my old stand mixer, though small and so easier to use for tasks like whipping small quantities of cream, sucks and really needs to be babysat. As I turned to wash fruit I heard a shout from my guy. My shaky sunbeam was shooting unwhipped cream all over the kitchen. I thought this, combined with being late was the major disaster of the day, but later would look back on it as the golden period.

Kitchen cleaned, cream whipped, Pavlova topped, bread fresh from the oven and into a bag - we were ready to roll. The now spitting rain posed a bit of an issue with the delicate Pavlova but nothing aluminum foil couldn't save. We hit the highway and cottage country traffic but at least we were on our way. Then the car started to shimmy. This is not standard Subaru behaviour, at least not for this Subaru. My guy quickly navigated us off the highway and to the nearest plaza where the car died almost immediately. Horrible, right? It gets better.

I had to, of course, phone my dear friends and tell them the bad news. There was no possible way for us to get to their home (nearly 60 km from ours). We then had the problem of getting ourselves back home and what to do with the car. My guy called his dad who happened to be around the corner at his brother's house for a big family Easter dinner.

So, instead of barbeque with friends, we sat on the outskirts of a big family dinner with all the trimmings and relatives who I was meeting for the first time. Our hosts were incredibly gracious about welcoming us, particularly me, a complete stranger, into their homes. It was awkward though as we did crash the party uninvited and the family were not very impressed with my guy's new vegetarian lifestyle. Oh, and the fact that a few months ago, one of the members of the family had said some very disparaging things about me, not because of anything particular I had done, but because "I'm warning you, all women are like that." I don't know what I did in some past life that I must endure such retribution. I only hope that I can atone for it and move on soon.