It would be far more honest of the university to say ‘we have one week off in February’ instead of giving it the lofty title of Reading Week.  I’ve yet to meet one single individual attending UBC Okanagan who actually read.  One of the women from my gym went to Mexico with her boyfriend, Luke’s girlfriend Michelle went to Calgary to visit him, and Nicky played ball hockey in the yard with his friends.

Not one of these people read, studied, or worked on any assignments whatsoever.  And of course the downside of a week like that for me are the hoardes of locusts that suddenly cluster in my basement.  I’m telling ya, another few months of parenting is probably my limit.

I was very excited to write my February newsletter last week because I was able to announce my new chocolate bark venture.  My web designer Steve’s already put some beautiful photos on my site, and I’m now working on the wording to go with them.

I’m not sure if you remember this, but in the beginning of the fruitcake business I was crazy for the idea of making wedding favours.  Then I got a couple of orders of 200 pieces of fruitcake wrapped in cellophane and a ribbon.  After I’d done a few I decided my sanity came first and stopped advertising this product.

So then what part of my mind had gone on me when I excitedly told Joanne at the gym that I’d happily make 300 individual pieces of bark for her convention?  Around day three of ribbon cutting and tying bows I went, “Oh yeah! That’s why I got out of the wedding favour business.”

Oh well.  This week 300 people in Burnaby will be reading my little sticky tag on the back of the cute little bags of bark.  All I could fit on there is “Homemade in Kelowna using Okanagan Fruit” and then my website of course.  So maybe some will actually go ahead and order.  I have big hopes and dreams for the bark.

Another big dream I have is to be able to apply the many fabulous things I learned at the xeriscape workshop I attended on Saturday.  It was put on by the Okanagan Xeriscape Association, and the guest speaker, Owen Dell, is well-known in sustainable landscaping.

All I could think of while sitting there was how I need to win the lottery so badly now.  The lawns have got to go, because they’re wasting so much water needlessly.  And the photos he showed of converted yards were really inspiring, not all dead and ugly at all.

I’m thinking the odds of winning the lottery are going to be low, so it looks like I’m going to be stuck with whatever grudging labour I can get around here.  But the kid’s learned that Reading Week means Hockey Week, so I’m guessing Gardening Week will mean I’m Busy with Friends Week.  See what I mean about that time limit on parenting?

My life is filled with one hare-brained scheme after another, but this time I think I might really be onto something.  As you know, I’ve been experimenting with the chocolate bark idea.  It was just a couple of weeks ago that I learned how to temper chocolate so that it looks all nice and professional.

I took samples to my gym, and as a result, I sold several pounds of chocolate to members.  I thought that was pretty exciting, but it got even better.  Last week, a super nice woman named Joanne asked if I could make 300 individual pieces for her company’s upcoming convention in Burnaby!

Of course I said yes, and then have been working like a frightened  idiot ever since.  I really love things like that, because I’m a big procrastinator.  With great haste I made a mock-up of a label and went on-line to search for cello bags.  I had to buy more chocolate and candy a whole bunch of almonds.

One of the very worst things about this venture is the proliferation of very bad food in the house at all times.  Just talking about those candied almonds is making me hungry, and oh yeah, there’s pounds of them right in my own house!

I’ve decided I need to buy my own dehydrator.  I know it sounds crazy, but I think I’d like to dry my own fruit.  I want to use really nice ripe Okanagan fruit, and what better source than my mom’s orchard in Osoyoos?  And really, how hard can it be to learn how to dehydrate fruit?

Ain’t life grand?  I can’t imagine not having wild schemes whirling about in my head.  I think it’s because of that that I’ve seriously had second doubts about hunting for the elusive male on-line.  It’s strange, but for weeks now I’ve had the theme song from that old movie, Born Free, running through my head.

Somehow I don’t think a chocolate and fruitcake-making, fruit dehydrating beekeeper with a kajillion spoiled pets sounds appealing to most men.  Though when I see how badly the kitchen ceiling needs painting I think I should stop being silly and not be so averse to having someone cramp my style.

I’m sure someday I’ll get bored with being able to do whatever I like whenever I feel like it.  But for now I adore things like the ‘girls’ get-togethers we often have at my dear pal Kathy’s house.  I’ve described it to you before – gleaming, beautiful, all Jordans all the time.

The downside to the Saturday night event was waking up sick on Sunday, which suffice to say, was a quiet day.  I had all manner of plans for the business, but instead ended up on the couch reading Margaret Trudeau’s latest memoir, Changing My Mind.  I adore reading it, as I remember those times well.

It must be that hare-brained schemers like to read about other hare-brained schemers to make them feel less mad.

I went to Osoyoos last week for a visit with mom and Gerry.  I told mom I was getting a bee hive, and said I’d been advised to get a bee suit.  Mom sighed, and said, “You’ll probably get to be really odd like those other beekeepers.  You know… beekeepers…they’re all really odd.” Then she listed a couple of them, including a former neighbour named Johnny Rist.

I agreed, and said so what?  I said someday all of the land bordering mine will have been turned into a version of suburbia.  I already have one neighbour with a whole hill of pink rocks right beside my indigenous shrubs.  Someday all of the land surrounding me will be filled with houses and concrete, but there will be this one little old farming woman with her damned bees.

Mom reminded me of the danger of swarms.  She said Johnny Rist’s bees would swarm every once in a while and he’d have to come over and coax them back into their hives.  I just don’t know how I’m going to explain that to the pink rock-owning neighbours.

“Umm, excuse me, but that swarm of bees in your driveway appears to be mine.”  Lorraine, the beekeeper from the gym, said it’s “absolutely beautiful” when they swarm, but I’m feeling kind of nervous about that part of it.  However, one must remember that anything worthwhile often requires overcoming challenges.

Such was the case on Friday when a nice Shaw Cable man came. I’d been visited by a travelling salesman who convinced me to switch from Telus to Shaw for my phone services.  Of course, they have to come and do some wiring at your house, so we set a date and time.

When the cable installer arrived, he hopped out of his van and immediately walked to my basement kitchen window, and said, “What’s this cable?  That wouldn’t have been installed by us because we never put it outside like that.”  I replied that I had no idea.  He asked how long I’ve lived here and I said, “Twenty years.”

I then thought back to the many cabling jobs over the years.  There was the cable installation to several upstairs areas, all done by Denis’ friend, Shane, an electrician.  Another time, I recalled Shane doing something with the Shaw cable lines at their source.

Then I recalled admonishments over the years from Luke, such as “We can never call Shaw Cable to our house.”  These images and thoughts all came to me in the moment I was standing on the driveway, looking at the most recently pirated line.  I knew it was the cable for my basement kitchen TV.

Somehow, however, the Gods of Forgiveness seemed to be with me.  The kind cable installer went about doing the phone switchover, and he and I never mentioned any of the other unusual lines again.  You see how a good attitude can trump a bad situation.