You may recall a story that I told you about when I was a young child, merrily skipping barefoot through the orchard.  I stepped on a bee, got stung, and came into the house saying, “I just got stung by a bee.” To which my dad angrily replied, “You watch out for those bees!”

My dad was a lover of all animals, and he certainly wasn’t going to have a flat-footed, clumsy brat stepping on a bee, thereby killing it.  So I wasn’t in the least bit surprised this morning to see a bee sitting kind of dazed on my chest of drawers.

I shook my head and chuckled to myself, as today is the twenty-year anniversary of his death.  Only my dad would take the trouble to remind me that every stinking bee on Earth is important.  So of course I grabbed a glass and a piece of paper and risked life and limb.  I got the bee into the glass, took it outside and away it flew.

Another really influential male in my life has been Dr. Wayne Dyer.  In the 70’s I read his book Your Erroneous Zones and it really helped me a lot.  I saw him on public television last night, and he did it again.  That man is a raving genius.

Here is something he asked us to ponder.  He said you know how easy it is to face a task and automatically think to yourself, “this is going to be hard.”  But he suggested that we should practice thinking differently.

 As an example of why we should give it a try, he said to remember times when something unexpected happened.  He asked if any of us had ever been thinking that we really would like to get some money when something unexpected happened and we received money.  Many peope nodded as they could relate to that.

He said when you’re pondering some task, consider the unexpected in that you have a fifty-fifty chance of it going either way.  In other words, it may indeed be hard or easy, but you don’t know in advance because we can’t foresee the future.  You can think, “this is going to be hard” or “this is going to be easy” so he said why not pick the second thought and go with that.

Hence as I look at the basement kitchen and try to cajole myself into baking, I’m going to have to think, “this is going to be easy.”  Experience tells me that it’s not, but what the hey, there’s no harm in trying a new approach to things.  Remember Julie Andrews singing “just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down?”  Now where is that bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream sherry that I bought the other day?

It’s the first day of summer and my delphiniums are looking absolutely gorgeous.  I’d love to include a photo of things like that in a newsletter, but don’t understand yet how to do it!  I can grow beautiful delphiniums, make really delectable souffles, write reasonably coherent blogs, but cannot for the life of me understand technology.

Last night I made one of the family’s favourite meals.  I made chicken souvlakis, roasted potatoes and Greek salad.  Just because I was in the mood for some baking therapy, I made a dear little butter cake for dessert.  Then I iced it and put sprinkles on top.  I decided a tiny corner wouldn’t hurt.  Sometime within the next hour something inside me snapped and I ended up eating the majority of it.

I woke up intermittently in the night, feeling quite nauseous.  When next I’m being whisked to the hospital with a kidney stone, I will reflect back on the cause.  Note I’m not going to try and reflect on it until the crisis hits.

Today is Father’s Day so in honour of it I’m making pork chops in a delectable whipping cream and white wine sauce for dinner.  Tempting fate, I’ve got a pan of brownies in the oven.  I figure one won’t hurt anything.

My vegetable garden has proven to be a bit of a disappointment.  The radishes were woody and the lettuce is bitter!  Vegetable growing is proving to be a bit of a puzzle.  It’s probably better to stick to producing baked goods.

As an experiment, inside my greenhouse I have two big pots, one with a bottle-neck gourd and the other with a cucumber.  It’d be great if these turn out to be great honking vines winding their way beautifully around the inside.  So far it looks promising.

Less promising are my efforts regarding fruitcake production, even though I keep telling myself how much I’m going to love it this year.  Luke and his friend Ryan, the kid who works for food, hooked my TV up to cable so now I can watch Martha while being Martha.

Last year I had the TV, but it was only hooked up to a DVD player.  I tried to watch some episodes of Trailer Park Boys, but realized one needs shows with a lot of talking and little action.  If all of the funny stuff is happening and you’re head-down chopping fruit, then you miss the whole point.

The weather changed this afternoon and there’s a wind and a bit of rain which could fell some of my tall delphiniums.  I recall this always happens the moment they’re at their full height and glory.  They’re too beautiful to cut, so maybe this is nature’s way of saying ‘go ahead.  Put some gorgeous delphiniums in a vase and enjoy.’

In the days when TV brought a maximum of four black and white channels into the house, I was sometimes reduced to watching The Wide World of Sports on a boring Saturday afternoon.  It always started with the same scene as they showed someone winning an athletic event while another person crashed.  The voice-over was “the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat.”  This was what came to mind last week as I received a rejection from Chatelaine.

Yes, it’s true.  I should be crushed, but I actually felt wonderful because of how nicely Monda Rosenberg, the food editor, did it.  She took the time to explain that there are so many space constraints that not everything fits into each issue.  So who knows, maybe next year I’ll get lucky.

She ended her e mail with, “They are totally outstanding and believe you me I have tasted a lot of fruitcakes in my days.  Even judged them at the CNE.  Just remember that you make one of the best tasting fruitcakes in Canada.”  So how in the world could I be upset?

I’m far more upset by having three males acting like sloths around me all day.  I wouldn’t be surprised if fungus started growing on them from lack of activity.  The other day Luke got up at 11:00 and said he’d power wash the small deck for me in preparation for staining, to which I replied, “Too late.  I’ve already done the second coat.”

Denis came home from work and said, “I’m going to start on the windows,” to which I replied, “Too late, I’ve already washed them.”  Recently he was bothered by an errant elm tree and cut it down.  He’d hauled up the branches and said he was going to rent a chipper.  I realized I’d be living with the tree debris until after the Olympics, so simply phoned the yard waste removal company who came and hauled it all away.

“Too late” is a refrain often heard by the three men.  Of course they’re absolutely thrilled by it, and would only be frightened to hear it at dinner time.  Last week I made really delicious butter chicken, which Luke decided needed to be followed up by homemade donuts.

I’ve never made donuts before, but Luke found a recipe on-line and they were actually really good.  We ate them hot, dripping in oil and slathered in icing.  And this after a day of low carbs and heavy exercise!  Oh well.

Now I need to get serious with my on-line marketing, as increased web sales are my goal for this tiny business.  If I could sell 3,000 fruitcakes directly to customers, I’d be very happy.  Of course I’d hoped Chatelaine would be instrumental in making this happen, but that would’ve been too easy, wouldn’t it?

Grocery and household shopping has now become an epic event.  I go to the Real Canadian Superstore for the bulk of the stuff, such as paper towels, staples like tomato sauce, milk, eggs, yogurt, etc.  However, I don’t like their meat or vegetables, so I get those at a small independent store called Lakeview Market.

Then I must go to Costco because they carry Squirrely Bread, which is made from sprouted wheat and not flour.  I also get bran bars there.  The family likes the bread at a Germany bakery downtown called Tripke’s, so I go there for their beautiful flax seed bread.

However, only Safeway carries the fat-free creamo, so I have to go there now as well.  Then, add Buckerfields for the pigs’ ears and munchies for the dogs, and Nature’s Fare for my many nutritional supplements.  Did I mention the wine at the licquor store?  Needless to say it involves a day a week to hit them all.

This is precisely why I say to Denis that I have absolutely no time for any frivolity such as getting a job.  He’s had the unadulterated nerve to suggest this from time to time, implying the fruitcake business is a bit crazy.

When these insulting moments have occurred in the past, I became quite livid.  Now, however, I just sigh deeply and slowly shake my head as I sadly say to him, “I would love a job, but unfortunately I simply don’t have the time.”  How I used to work outside the home over the past 25 years I do not know.

Right now I can barely keep up with watering the flowers and vegetables, never mind cleaning the house.  I’m wondering what’s going to happen when I realize that I’m running a growing cottage industry that has a firm customer base.  Every year I’m surprised by that, so not sure when I’m going to accept it.

In three months I’ll be up to my neck in glace cherries, and wondering why I neglected to bake.  I’ll be crying on the phone to the box manufacturer, and begging the label company to rush the order.  Under duress I will scream profanities at the family for making inane requests.

Even now I’m getting orders in dribs and drabs, and these are still due to the Province article that appeared at the end of March.  Should I have the great luck of appearing in Chatelaine Magazine, I can only imagine what’s going to happen.

Meanwhile, there’s Yorkshire pudding to be prepared to accompany tonight’s roast.  As soon as I sign off here I’m going to look up some recipe sites for a quick dessert.  Certainly there are priorities one must have in life, but for now, mine is to while away the time with food-focused activities.

Denis’ idea of home ownership is to ignore any renovation and maintenance issues.  After several years of mentioning that I think the deck needs staining, he decided this was the year that it would finally happen.  Last weekend when I asked for the hundredth time when the event might occur he said, “next weekend.”

A few days later mom and Gerry were by for a visit, and as we were all assembled out on the deck I proudly told them about the impending deck maintenance project.  Denis piped up with, “Oh, um, I’ve got a hockey tournament next weekend.  But I can do some of it between games.”

So imagine the mood I’m in as I type this blog.  I’ve just spent two days in the blazing sun working like Octomom during flu season.  To add drama, it ended last night with me stumbling backwards and cutting the bottom of my foot really badly on a sharp stone edge.

The bad mood began on Friday morning when I woke up with a horrible stiff neck.  It got worse when I went to the store and bought the stain.  I never know where to find anything in Rona, and even when I find stuff, I have no idea what to do with any of it.

The saga then continued on Saturday when Luke, Nicky and I took turns using the pressure washer to blast the old stain off the deck.  This took several hours.  Then we applied some wood cleaner with a mop, and rinsed the whole deck.  By this time my biceps were shot and I needed a large glass of wine.

On Sunday morning we were ready for the actual staining, and after a day in the sun I was ready to kill someone.  I believe I am done with it, and am hoping that Mr. Hockey will apply the final coat.  If the deck burns down at this point I will not care, as I am very close to needing hospitalization.

Besides a sun burn, I have a cold sore and the aforementioned stiff neck.  My foot hurt so badly last night that I had to take two Tylenol.  I have a weird pain in my throat that I am sure is some type of malignancy.  Have I mentioned that I’m a hypochondriac?

Next week should be somewhat better, as I have two deliveries of Okanagan Harvest Cake to make to the south Okanagan.  That means a trip to visit mom and Gerry, and the opportunity to drive through the most beautiful scenery in the world.

As you know, I was just in Germany and it’s a beautiful country.  However, whatever they have there is, in my biased opinion, dwarfed by the majesty of the Okanagan Valley.  And now to top off all of that beauty, there is a lovely, newly-stained deck in East Kelowna to add to it all.