Sunday, April 19, 2015

72 Daughters VS Hockey

So what's a guy to do when he lives with 73 girls (72 little ladies + me)? For one, we are never short on hair advice. Recently, one of our bold little one ones commented on his growing hair, "Mano Evan tem cabelo feio" (ie. Ugly hair). So in an efforts to help their dorm father and point out the obvious need for a haircut, they put their own hairstyling skills into action!



Perhaps in an efforts to compensate for the pictures I just posted or simply to defend his Canadian manliness (whatever that means!), please enjoy a few words from my hockey loving husband on what hockey has done for him in Mozambique...

"As the Senators completed their NHL play-off push in tremendous fashion, lately I've been missing hockey. Over Christmas here, in the +40C heat, I missed watching the world juniors tournament; settling for finding video replays online. So with hockey on my mind, I've been seeing how what I learned while playing hockey has been quite useful here in Mozambique. There are times when the hockey player in me just comes out.

Now as a hockey player, I've been known to be—how do you say it—rough at times. This I found to be useful when stuck on the side of the road with a sliding van door hanging loose out of its tracks. We had no tools, nobody seemed to have any tools—other than a tire iron, which is mandatory in every vehicle (and the police will stop you just to check). McGyvering only goes so far, and I could see the previous McGyvering repairs on the door. We were running out of things to try; and daylight. When one passing driver stopped, not to help, but to inform us that the sun is going down and you best get out of this part of town, a body-check was needed. So, I body-checked the door forcing the bracket into the track enough to hold it in place so we could get safely to a service station.

Another instance had the hockey player in me blurting to the surface. A little while ago we had a rat as an unwelcomed house guest. We searched for where it was trying to build a nest, tried in vain to seal up any hole it might have been getting in, and chased it out when we saw it. One evening I saw it gently try walking through our open door way. I was fortunate to have a broom sitting right by the door, though unfortunate for the rat who receive a nice snap-shot sending it rolling across the room. The next morning the rat later succumbed to its injuries (maybe head trauma or the rat poison we had left out) and was found the next morning (as seen in our previous post).

Another morning recently, I also had to put another skilled learned from seasons of hockey... dealing with concussions. One of our girls fell at school hitting her head, leaving the nastiest bump on her forehead I've ever seen. I knew the protocol, had been through it myself on occasion.

I may be over 13,000km away from the nearest canadian ice rink but waking up at 2:30am to listen to the Ottawa-Montreal games via Internet radio manages to keep my love for hockey alive and well."