Luke left for Thailand a little over a week ago, and he phoned to say he’s already contracted Yellow Fever!  It’s not even recommended as an immunization, so go figure how the kid contracted it in a country that’s not supposed to have it.  But he said once his temperature registered 41 degrees C he decided to head for the hospital where he was diagnosed with it.

He’s fine, and the wedding’s still on, so all’s well.  While in the hospital he also got every immunization he should have gotten before he left, but didn’t, and advised me to do the same.  I had smugly reviewed the information provided by the travel clinic and said no thanks.  Just now I phoned them for an appointment and will be there next week to get loaded up with injections.

But instead of feeling daunted, I feel invigorated by the challenges before me.  When I go on a trip I study my itinerary the way Romney studies the Book of Mormon.  I keep reading the departure and arrival times, trying to picture what it’ll be like on the plane, and try to imagine actually sleeping on the plane.

You know how you’re supposed to visualize things to make them happen, so I’m visualizing myself fast asleep, pressed against the window of the plane.  I’ll be landing in Hong Kong at 3:00 AM my time, and will need to stumble toward another gate to catch my flight for Bangkok.  I see myself actually finding the correct gate in my mind.

Another fascinating, though less rigorous experience occurred on Monday when I showed up as summoned for jury selection.  It was really interesting, and I met some very nice people while in the line.  We had to stand outside the courthouse for about an hour, because around 400 people had been called.

By the time we got inside, all the seats were taken, so I had to stand.  Finally at 1:00 we were allowed a break for an hour so I drove home, just so I could sit down.  I changed shoes, and returned, and was able to sit for the remainder of the wait.

Our names had gone into a draw, and one by one, people were called to be interviewed by the lawyers on each side, and then either they were dismissed, or else they stayed, and therefore became a juror.  This process took until 4:30 PM when suddenly the large wave of humanity surged toward the door with jubilation, and we were told juror #12 had been chosen, so we were all dismissed.

I received a complimentary copy of Country Woman magazine because I’m mentioned in their upcoming Dec/Jan issue.   You’ll be able to see it on-line in a month or two.  It’s a very sweet article all about fruitcake, and they have a great recipe I want to try.  I feel like experimenting with some new fruitcakes, just for the fun of it.

I received a nice order from someone who Googled fruitcake and found my site.  She wanted fruitcakes sent to her 102 year old mother in Montreal.  She mentioned she used to order from Gramma Deb’s Fruitcakes, but thought she wasn’t in business anymore.

I went on-line and found Gramma Deb’s, and there’s a sad story.  The site is live, but the note says, “I have not been well so I am not baking this year.”  I pray to God that isn’t me following the Thailand trip!

At least three of my friends have been to Italy this fall.  I was there with my mom when I was 19, and I just hated it.  The reason was I wasn’t accustomed to men stalking me wherever I went, saying “bella bella bella” in my face all the time.  Now I want to return to Italy, because I’d kill to be stalked by men again and also for anyone, anywhere to use the word “bella” in reference to me.

A person (read woman) becomes invisible over the age of 50, and it can be disconcerting.  More upsetting are comments from people I meet and to whom I say I still have a kid living at home with me.  They look at me alarmed, ask the age of the kid, and then respond with something like, “Wow, you must’ve been old when you had your first child.”

Such are the slings and arrows aimed at the primigravida.  It’s a medical term, meaning a mother giving birth for the first time at or over the age of 35.  I actually don’t fit the term, but enjoy it.  I was 32 when Luke was born, and 35 when I had Nicky, but I wear the label proudly nonetheless.

I was an apparition at the annual library book sale yesterday.  It was crammed with people, as always.  I was browsing the Travel books section, and found a book on bowel health while in Asian countries, called Shitting Pretty.  I picked it up, then found it necessary to tell the stranger next to me I needed the book for my imminent trip to Thailand.

Sadly, this man couldn’t give a fig about me, my book, or the trip, so acted like I wasn’t there, and moved away!  Honestly, some people.  But it was a great sale, as I got a New York Times dessert cookbook with over 400 recipes and lots of nice pictures.  Every book was $1 or $2, so hard to go wrong there.

Last week my friend Beverly and I devoted a full day to thrift shopping and I got some wonderful things.  I got a new suede, sheepskin lined jacket for $20 at the Sally Ann.  It’s a beautiful pale beige, and I found a great pair of shoes to go with it at The Village. Joy!

I attended a once-in-a-lifetime event in Penticton last Saturday.  It was a Celebration of Life, with the recipient in attendance!  You know how people always say they’d like to able to attend their own funerals?  Our friend Liz planned her own celebration by picking the photos and music for the slide show, inviting the guests and then welcoming us all with a speech at the beginning.  I’ll never forget it.

And another unusual, though less dramatic event occurred on Monday.  My school pay Maryjoy (one of our “group” from Osoyoos Elementary Junior Secondary School days) had a stopover in Kelowna, so I invited her to join us for dinner.  Luke was coming home from Alberta, on his way to Thailand, so Denis was coming over, and of course Nicky lives here.

When I served dinner, Maryjoy said, “Shouldn’t we grace the food?”  The four of us look at each and stared blankly, kinda like Romney does whenever someone asks him to explain his former pro-choice stance.  I stammered something like, “Please, you go ahead.”  Fortunately, she didn’t think badly of us, we held hands, we prayed, and all was well.  Afterward I had to endure a small tongue-lashing from the heathen brats, but I didn’t care.

You may recall me talking about the joy of being able to work from home.  However, I’m used to being here alone, as everyone else has always had jobs outside the home.  Not anymore, though.

Now that Nicky’s started his job as a contractor to Telus, he works from home most of the time!  Can you imagine?  The joy of working from home has been somewhat mitigated by the presence of someone who hardly ever appears to be ‘working’ at all.

Oh well, it’s the new world order, I suppose.  But as long as we’re all working, I should give a rat’s ass about how or where we do it.  And now both children earn a lot more money than their dear old mom so perhaps the worm’s turned, and finally I’ll be the person with their hands out, begging, “Please sir, may I have some more?”  Cue the orphan from Oliver!

I was in Osoyoos for Thanksgiving, and we had the pleasure of having the dinner prepared by mom’s pal, Jerralynn, the gourmet cook.  Nicky was there, as he wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and as always mom knows only the most interesting people in town.

One of only two females in the Canadian Armed Forces to make the rank of Major General, Lise Mathieu, was one of the guests.  Osoyoos boasts such interesting retirees, and if they’re truly interesting, they end up having dinner with mom and Gerry.

My pal from teacher of the deaf days in Prince George, Beverly, is coming tonight to stay for a couple of days.  Tomorrow we have the entire day set aside for our favourite activity, which is thrift store shopping.  A few days ago I spent $6 for a scarf and a pair of brand new sandals, so that’s the kind of thing I enjoy.

The other day I idly thought of buying a new stove, as mine’s a complete mess after only 15 years, but of hard use.  It has one of those ceramic tops, but it’s cracked in one area, and stained all over the top where the pots sit, so it’s just hideous.  But then, I went no.  Since I’ve committed myself to this new self-directed RSP program, I’m in a total austerity mode.

And God knows, I need to be as I’m also going to need money for Thailand.  Joe Miller, the nice man who’s helping me with my savings fund, has a son who lives in Bangkok.  He’s married to a Thai woman so I’ve been in contact with them.  They said the best thing to do is to get tons of baht in various denominations for the wedding.

Apparently everyone hands everyone else baht in envelopes, and you also give money to the monks who attend the ceremony.  Obviously the last thing I need is a new stove when I have to be lavishing dough around a tiny Thai village.

But I’m buying dates and apricots this weekend, and will prepare the fruit for some Okanagan Harvest Cakes.  Once I’ve made a few cases, I’ll make a few Totally Decadents, and then that’s it.  On my site I removed all stores, except for two in Kelowna, and the rest of the world have to order on-line.  Hopefully sales will be half decent, and then Joe Miller, my money guru, and the Thai village will be happy.

Mojo’s quietened down over the years, as she’s 12, but Ricky still enjoys barking quite a lot.  Because of his incessant barking, I don’t pay attention to it.  But the other day it went on and on, and I thought I should see what was bothering the little dog.

I looked down the driveway, and there was a huge coyote on one side of my gate, and the tiny dachshund on the other side, barking furiously.  The coyote was just standing there, parallel to the gate and looking down at my dog.  It was so big and healthy-looking at first I thought it was a German sheperd.

When I came out it ran off, and later when I looked out of my office window, I could see it run across the neighbour’s field.  Since then I’ve been completely paranoid as this occurred in the middle of the day, and so at night I now have to go out with the dogs.

Nicky said we seem to be on some type of migratory path.  Bears, raccoons, deer and now coyotes all enjoy my yard.  All I can say as a pet owner is it’s rather disturbing.

Did I mention my mom’s learning how to use Skype?  It’s nice because now she’s able to converse with and see Luke or me whenever the urge hits.  I think both mom and Luke look very nice, but when I see the little box in the corner of myself, I think I look like hell.  I wonder if that’s normal.

I’ve been consulted over the past few months by the owner of a new cracker company here in the Okanagan called Savor-Otti.  It’s savoury biscotti, hence the name.  It’s been wonderful to talk with Margaret Ann about how to start a home based food business.

And of course it makes me mad, because how many times have I said I’m going to write a how-to book on starting a home based food business while knowing nothing?  Perhaps someday I will, but so far, nada.

Instead, I do things like experiment with making chicken jerky for the dogs.  Did you hear how horribly unhealthy those commercially-made chicken jerky treats are?  Some dogs have died as a result of eating them.

Jerralynn said they’re easy to make, so I gave it a whirl.  First of all, you have to buy chicken breasts, skin and de-bone them, and cut them into narrow strips.  I did all that, and then put them into a low oven for 4 hours.  They were fine, but not chewy.

Jerralynn said I didn’t leave them in long enough, so last evening I put in a batch and left them overnight so it was a total of 12 hours.  They seem better, but still not like the very flat, chewy strips I used to buy.  Oh well, better that they’re healthy even if they don’t look like the original.

Last weekend I had tremendous fun because I cleaned out my closets, and amassed two huge bags of clothes and shoes for the Salvation Army.  I have so much stuff and so much more needs to be hauled in here, so room needs to be made.

As you know, in November I’m off to Thailand, so I plan to shop like a Kardashian on Ecstasy.  I’m leaving my suitcase 2/3 empty so I can stock it with Gucci and Prada knock-offs.