Ignore my last post about the lack of snow. The snow decided to start sticking. This morning I woke up to a world dripping in white. I slogged my way to the East Side kitchen for food prep, thrilled with the prospect of tubing and skiing. Well, I would like to go tubing. Probably not skiing. I feel like that takes more coordination that I possess.
For those that don't know, there was a small electrical fire issue on East Side last week and the old ovens had to go. New ones were ordered but did not arrive until this morning. Once they did, a highly entertaining scene ensued:
For the first hour, a few men stood around looking serious and discussing strategy in low voices. The members of the group changed every once in a while, perhaps so they could include every possible male perspective. The in-depth discussion eventually concluded and they moved on to the next step.
This involved recalling some of the previously departed group members so that as many people as possible could squish around the ovens as they lifted them, one at a time, and squeezed through the door into the kitchen. I counted seven gathered around the oven, but only five supporting the weight. The other two orbited around the group, offering supervision and advice.
The two ovens made it safely into the kitchen and the group dissolved. Hopefully at least one of them is planning to come back to hook the ovens up.
I made it back home after food prep and was delighted to find that someone had kindly shoveled off my porch for me. That's one of the wonderful things about Camp; people caring for each other.
No comments:
Post a Comment