Goat milk for breakfast

… with some kind of homemade pasta mixed with beaten eggs and fried pancake-style . Apparently it’s ‘pretty good.’ I wouldn’t know, but my kids would. They’re in the village for a few days staying with hubbs’ aunt. The whole goat milk thing sent a little shiver down my spine, till I heard about the pasta-egg-pancake thing. But hey, at least someone thinks it’s ‘pretty good.’ Glad I’m not the one who gets to make that observation.

Kids come home tomorrow, and there are rumors that we’ll be getting gas back by the end of the week. Here’s hoping for hot food. Mmm… I bought myself some downright delish eggplant salad yesterday for dinner, and hubbs bought himself a smoked salted fish. (Ewww!) It only took a few hours to get the smell out of the apartment.

Assuming we get gas back, we may escape the water shut-off. The “president” of the building (I guess something like a president of a homeowners association) came by last night. She means business. I was a little frightened. She promised that she’ll take care of things with the gas company right away and the sum owed for gas back-payment is less than 1/2 what it used to be. We’ll see if she can work her magic with the water company before they turn us into a dry building. Here’s hoping.

If not, I may end up this weekend in the village with the kids. Drinking goat milk and eating egg-pasta pancakes. And drawing water from the well. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. My kids are half Moldovan – they can handle it. I’m full-blooded American. I can take a lot of things, but I have to draw the line somewhere, right? Of course here in the city we still share our neighborhood with a herd of goats who like the same lake-shore we do, but that’s a subject for another post.

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