Winter Doldrums

The fates are begging me to write my book about how I started this stupid business, yet I continue to ignore them.  Over the years, I’ve had a few people contact me and ask me questions about how I started.  I’ve always been willing to help and never ignore or refuse anyone.

Then today I got a nice e mail from Beverly Bruck.  She’s David Bruck’s wife, and he’s Gerry’s son.  Gerry is mom’s significant other.  There is no short cut for me to explain this relationship to you.  She would therefore be my step sister-in-law if on some Polynesian Island built on a complex matrilineal system.

Anyway, she said years ago a friend of hers was casting about for what to do with her life.  As it happened, Beverly had received an article about my business from my mom, and showed it to her friend.  As a result, the friend started an on-line cake business, too!  Hers is called Aunt Bea’s Wine Cakes, based in Virginia.

When I received that e mail, and realized I’d influenced a person’s entire life with my story, I thought this has to be a sign for me to write my memoir.  But I’ve talked of it many times before, yet for some ungodly reason, I won’t do it.  Why? 

I won’t even bother to put “stop procrastinating” on any list of resolutions, as I know I won’t do it.  One thing I’m doing that’s new is giving the dog one glucosamine and one fish oil capsule daily for her arthritis.  I don’t think that counts as a resolution, though.

I had a really nice phone call from an elderly woman who’d bought my fruitcake at the Wine Museum downtown.  She said it was very good, and she wanted me to know how much she’d enjoyed it.  It’s strange, but these calls almost always come on days when I’m mulling over how to sell a fruitcake business.

And these thoughts are crazy, as the business is finally in the black.  I’ve worked out all the kinks.  I have a set of steady customers.  But I think it’s normal to feel sick of a fruitcake business in January.  It’s the same way a farmer feels in the fall, I’m sure.

One thing that happened unnoticed by me was the closure of all the video stores.  At Christmas I thought it’d be nice to rent some movies, but then couldn’t find any of the old stores as they were all gone! I came home defeated, and the kids had to do the usual pirating.

What I’m realizing is if I want to watch newish movies, I’m going to have to change with the times, and as you know, I hate change.  But I’ll have to steel myself and make inquiries at Shaw Cable or Netlfix and see what in the heck a person of my abilities will be able to do in order to watch a new movie.

In the meantime I’ve been to the bargain section of Mosaic Books downtown, and loaded up on memoirs.  I finished two, and will work on the third today. 

Like a farmer, winter is my fallow time, and I intend to rejuvenate myself with a bit of inspirational reading.  Maybe, wonder of wonders, I’ll actually be able to force myself to start to write.

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