I go to the gym five days a week, and when I add up that time commitment it equals an entire work day!  It takes about fifteen minutes before and after the one-hour classes to drive there and get dressed.  So this is 1.5 hours five times a week, which equals 7.5 hours, or a complete day of work.

I guess that’s just what one must do if one is a behemoth.  Although I also go because I simply adore all of the women with whom I chat before and after class.  And, being self-employed, it adds a structure around which I can build my day.  Otherwise, I would be aimlessly lying on the couch, reading.

I’m happy to say I’ve been somewhat more inspired to write lately.  I wrote a couple of short stories, and now have a list of writing contests so that I have deadlines to work toward.  If I can keep writing and submitting, perhaps someone will find my brand of humour funny, and I will be rewarded.

Certainly a cash prize of some type would help around here, considering the amount of food that Nicky consumes.  The other day he came home from the gym, downed a big glass of milk, then grabbed a beer and went downstairs.  You’d think that combination alone would kill a person, but nooooo.

The other night he had a dinner of a large chicken breast, huge pile of rice drenched in butter and two vegetables.  As soon as he had finished that, he buttered a large homemade bran muffin and slathered marmalade on top.  That was immediately followed by a salad bowl filled with Froot Loops and milk.

This was the appetizer.  As soon as he had eaten the cereal, he toasted four pieces of thickly cut bread and spread the toast with a massive amount of peanut butter and sliced bananas.  At that point I went to bed so I have no idea what might have occurred after that.

I’m currently enjoying an e mail relationship with a nice woman who contacted me as a result of reading the Province article that appeared last March.  She wants to start some type of home-based food business, and so has been asking me for advice.  I’m very happy to help her, though as I spell out what I do, and why, and how little I make, it kind of does make me wonder why I continue.

Although it’s kind of handy to be asking myself why I started and why I continue, as I’m trying to write a memoir about the fruitcake experience.  I believe I have a small insight, as I think it’s due to loving challenges and having a great fear of boredom.

And speaking of a great way to fight boredom, you must go and see Avatar in 3D.  I went yesterday afternoon, and I have to say I didn’t notice the 162 minutes go by.  Most of the time I felt much like I did when I saw Phantom of the Opera on stage: I felt like screaming from excitement the entire time.  Now that’s how you relieve boredom!

I’m not sure why, but over the past two evenings I’ve found it necessary to consume a 550 gram package of President’s Choice Chocolate Chunk cookies.  If Dr. Oz knew he would have a fit, as he thinks even one of these is poison, so 36 of them would horrify him.

It probably just goes to show us that Dr. Oz is a lily-livered jam tart who should break down and eat bad food once in a while.  Certainly his friend Oprah appears to be porking back the mashed potatoes and gravy with little guilt.  At least I have the decency to feel conflicted about my habits.

However, here’s a rare good habit I’ve recently started, though I find it very difficult.  I got an electric toothbrush, as per my hygienist’s suggestion.  Have you ever tried one?  It literally feels like a mini jackhammer is inside your mouth.  Toothpaste that you foolishly smeared on the mini brush is spread throughout the bathroom.

I’ve now learned that you put the toothbrush inside your mouth before turning it on.  This cuts down on flung toothpaste.  Then, as your entire head is vibrating, you move the brush around, hoping to get all areas.  Who knew that the inside of one’s mouth could be so ticklish?  This is one of the things I find really hard to get used to.

The other day I was idly flipping through Lifestyle, my favourite section of the Globe and Mail, and saw a recipe for Seville orange marmalade.  I raced right out and bought six oranges, and yesterday I made a batch.  Have you ever tasted a Seville orange?  They’re filled with seeds and membranes and a bit of pulp, and the tastes reminds one of Ipecac.

Ipecac was used to induce vomiting, and though I have never ingested it, I imagine its chemical composition is closely related to that of the Seville orange.  I don’t think I have tasted a more bitter food.  Funnily enough, though, both Denis and Nicky really liked it.  I guess if you like bitter tastes, like beer, you would probably like Seville orange marmalade.

No special taste buds were required for the lunch I brought for my friend Liz and her mom Liza.  We had scallops and shrimp in a white sauce made with wine, and for dessert we had apricot fools.  I made apricot sauce last summer and froze it, then mixed this with whipped cream.

When I described the fools to the women at the gym the other day, I’d said something like, “You know, you combine whipped cream and cooked fruit.”  To which one said, “No, I don’t know.  In fact, I’ve never made a fool in this lifetime, nor do I think I made one in my last lifetime.”  It helped me realize that not everyone races into stores to buy Seville oranges or try new recipes.  Pity.

I’m happy to report that I’ve managed to lose two pounds in the last week!  It’s been quite hard, as I want to eat Bridge Mix, lemon meringue pie and glazed donuts.  Instead, I’m eating Red River cereal topped with 1 percent milk and Splenda.

More good news is that Luke left on Wednesday for the oil rigs.  He drove off at 7:00 AM and phoned at 7:00 PM saying he was at the rig, and at work!  As the rig is five hours out of Calgary, I don’t even know how that is possible.  However, he did it without killing himself, so that’s the main thing.

He then phoned me on Saturday to tell me that he earned $1600 in the three days he’d worked!  It’s pretty hard to justify staying in the low-pay capital of Canada when he can go to Alberta and make so much.  Of course he has to work all night, so that’s no picnic, but I just think of all the money.

And speaking of people with money, yesterday I asked Nicky if he and Taya were going to be here for dinner. He said, “No, we’re going out for dinner.”  Sigh.  I haven’t been out for dinner since I don’t know when, but as we all know I need to save my money for tuition and cars.  And not my tuition or cars, either.

There’s no point in griping, as I have some concrete plans for the business that will hopefully reap some benefits.  For one thing, I’ve already sold some fruitcakes due to my monthly newsletter.  All of the fruitcakes are on sale, as I want to get new labels, and want to be rid of everything I have on hand.

Next, I’m going to speak at all Rotary Clubs as I want to get the word out that I have a great product for corporate gifts.  Another goal I have for 2010 is to market to more gift stores.  My friend Phyllis said my product is ‘too good’ for grocery stores, and though very vain on my part, I have to agree.

Not because the product is so great (though it is) but I think a smaller store allows more customer contact.  Would you pick up a box of something unknown, especially fruitcake, and buy it without knowing more about it?  Yet this is what people have to do at Buy-Low Foods.

So, I’m going to take my product out of the Buy-Lows, and stick with the smaller specialty groceries like Quality Greens in the Okanagan, and Urban Fare in Vancouver.  Then I’ll expand my network of cozy small gift stores where the staff are knowledgeable about each product and help customers buy.

And in the meantime, I’ll eat nothing but those tasteless foods recommended by Dr. Oz.  After all, I don’t want the Rotarians or gift store owners wondering why a behemoth is bothering them about fruitcake.

Pity the poor bank tellers and others who have to decipher forms with dates like today’s date: 1/10/10.  Or should that be 10/01/10?  However, I’m stymied easily enough by my own life so don’t need to add more puzzles to it.

Nicky’s been driving around with summer tires.  When I pointed this out to him and told him to get winter tires, he grunted.  A couple of weeks ago, after it had snowed, I said to Denis, “Doesn’t it worry you, being the Transport Safety Inspector and all, that your son is a hazard on the road?”  He grunted.

Imagine everyone’s surprise on Monday when Nicky piled into the maple tree at the bottom of our driveway!  His precious, newly re-built car was a smoking mess.  Denis and Luke went out and helped him tow it up the driveway and into the carport.

For the next two days, all I saw was Nicky attacking the car with some sort of an electrical tool, sparks flying out behind him.  Once he’d cut the fender off, he went on-line and decided the car could eventually be fixed.  But, this will take a while, so you know what happened, don’t you?  His car is tarped, and now sits beside the tarped Nissan van and the broken fridge.

Thus began a whole week of angst on Nicky’s part as he needed to bum rides like a real student does.  He didn’t like it, and managed to wheedle a thousand dollar Honda Accord out of Denis!  Don’t even get me started.

Then Luke came home and announced that he and his co-workers are all being laid off in two to three weeks.  I felt terrible for him, but it was short-lived.  Once again The Boarder came through, and Luke may soon be off to Alberta to make his fortune in the oil patch.

I could never have predicted 2010 would see yet another vehicle come into the yard, or that Luke would be leaving for Alberta again.  Life is so funny that way, isn’t it?

More predictable is how the fat remains no matter what one does.  I just finished reading the book, You! On a Diet and am trying very hard to do what Dr. Oz says.  If for no other reason than he is just so adorable.

I got a couple of panicked phone calls from people who had blithely skipped into the stores to pick up fruitcake, only to find that they’re no longer available.  I delivered one to a nice man and six to a dear woman who said she and her mother were addicted to them.

I find it’s better to avoid topics such as Dr. Oz’s book when making small talk with these customers!

Thank God all of the ‘season’s greetings’ are behind us!  I had a large salad for lunch today and am slowly feeling my blood sugar levels return to normal.  There are still a few Quality Street chocolates and After Eight mints left, but I’m forcing myself to stay away from them.

Most people are wise to the old, ‘oh, here’s a few cookies I made for you’ gag after Christmas. They know you made them weeks ago, and that you’re now trying to pawn them off to avoid diabetes.  We also still have a few blubber-building cookies around but I  was quite fortunate to be able to unload a couple of dozen in Osoyoos.

I drove down last Wednesday and mom, Gerry and I met three other friends at the new Watermark Resort in Osoyoos.  We had lunch in their very upscale wine bar and all remarked that we felt as though we were in Manhattan.  The food was great, and the ambiance really unbelievable.

The next day I made one of Gerry’s favourite foods, steak tartar.  It’s really just raw hamburger, but that sounds so foul, doesn’t it?  I also made herring salad, which mom loves.  Try that out the next time you’re having someone over.  “We’re having raw hamburger and herring salad.  Would you like to come?”

Actually, the herring salad is quite good, but only if you like pickled herring.  The herring is chopped up and added to cooked potatoes, diced beets, chopped hard boiled eggs and pickles.  Then you add mayo to the whole thing.  Think potato salad with herring and beets.

I drove back to Kelowna on New Year’s Eve and did the usual: I was asleep by 9:00 PM.  Denis had had to greet the New Year on his own for the past 23 years, so is quite used to it.

One of my resolutions for this year is to stop being resistant to things I’m already committed to doing.  For example, I’ve told the whole world that I want to build a fruitcake business.  It is therefore both stupid and counter intuitive to fight with myself about going downstairs to start baking.

Plus the method for getting me to do things has got to change.  Every time I do something difficult I can’t go to Winners and buy something.  I’ve put myself on a strict austerity program, so there will be no more shopping going on around here.  There simply has got to be something I can do that’s as rewarding as buying useless stuff.

As soon as I find this magical thing I’m going to write a book and make a million dollars.  Or, should I perhaps just stop fooling around and write?