An atmosphere of quiet acceptance appears to have descended upon the home.  Luke is working hard at his new job as an entry-level welder.  He comes home filthy and shows me the blisters on his hands where the skin is rubbed off due to the excessive sweat inside his gloves.  When he does that, I say, “I told you to go to BCIT and take robotics.”

Nicky appears to be enjoying his job, as anyone would, and is now Big Man Around Town with his own debit card.  He’s been pigging out at McDonald’s, and I’m sorry to have to say, it shows.  The other day I pointed out his protuberant belly to him and he had to admit he is getting a bit porcine.

Denis has decided to grow a beard for some insane reason, so looks older than Medusa as his hair is still dark, but the beard is grey.  It’s strange how men do things to make themselves look worse, whereas women always seem to be trying to better their appearance.  Speaking of which, I got the most fab pair of Liz Claiborne pants at the Bay on Friday.

I have flipped into straight fear mode at this point, as I count the number of days until Christmas and feel sick.  Next year could someone please remind me that these fruitcakes need to be chipped away at, and not all baked in a ball of tears every fall?  I’m currently cooking fruit like there’s no tomorrow for the Okanagan Harvest Cake, and also have a blister due to all the damn cutting.

I remember when the kids were small how grateful I was that they loved TV.  They could be left there for hours, and I could actually get some stuff done.  I find I now get the same relief from the frozen food section at Costco.  I buy boxes of popcorn chicken, quesadillas, Taquitos, spring rolls and samosas and put them in the freezer.  Then at dinner time I ask them, “Do you want me to make a meatloaf, or would you rather heat up something from the freezer?”

It’s mean, I know, but gives me an extra hour or two to do something for the fruitcake business.  Right now I’m trying to write an ad to submit to google, but instead find that I need to dust the top shelf of knick knacks in the kitchen.  It’s strange how I can find so many things to do to avoid something that appears the least bit hard.

Aside from baking, I’m also plagued with technical difficulties such as renewing the domain name (can’t remember the password) and ordering letterhead and business cards (can’t fill out and attach the file electronically).  So, in the end, I just decide to sip a nice sauvignon blanc, eat a decent dinner and then placate myself with an entire angel food cake with butter icing.  Kidding.