I noticed the dog’s now exhibiting rapid breathing, and so thanks to Google he’s either anaemic or having heart failure.  Why my pets always get sick on the weekends when only the expensive emergency vet is available, I don’t know.  I’ll take Ricky to my vet tomorrow to confirm the diagnosis.  I’m already saying good-bye to the new set of summer tires I’ve been informed I need.

It’s either the tires or the vet’s fee, and because we all know how obsessive I am about my pets, the dog trumps my safety on the road.  But instead of being totally glum about what this all means, I decided the best thing to do is to look for a new puppy.

Two people already answered my e mails, one saying she’d just had a litter of 9 standard dachshund puppies last winter, and they just placed the last one in February.  The other kennel also had a litter around the same time, and both said there won’t be another litter for a year and a half!

I think there are 6 standard dachshund breeders in Canada, so the dogs are as rare as attractive men over the age of 50.  Miniature dachshunds are everywhere, but I would really love to have another dog like Arnie was.  He was so sweet and devoted; we were happy as long as we were in each other’s company.

I had pleasant company over yesterday for Kaffee und Kuchen, which is a delightful German tradition.  The typical German way of eating involves a fairly hearty breakfast, a hot lunch, coffee and cake around 3:30 or 4:00 and some bread and cold cuts or cheese around 7:00 PM.

The German relatives, Nicola and Sebastian came over and I had made chocolate cupcakes with white butter icing and pineapple upside down cake with whiping cream.  Margaret gave me a sweet white cake stand years ago onto which I piled the variously decorated cupcakes.

I made a pot each of coffee and tea and the table was all set with my beautiful Pembroke Aynsley china, including the set’s to-die-for pot.  I have an old art deco cream and sugar set from Marlin which I put out.  I placed my dear grandmother’s sugar spoon, brought in a wooden crate by sea from Germany so many years ago, beside the sugar bowl.

I had my pal Alison’s mom Pauline’s pink tablecloth on the table, and a bouquet of pink alstroemeria in my favourite Bohemia Crystal vase as a centre piece.  Pauline’s pink napkins completed the lovely picture.

Nicola sighed when she looked at the table, because let’s face it, one would feel as though they’d fallen down the rabbit hole, coming in from the yard.  Did I mention Luke’s car is still up on blocks out there, hood up, doors open, wheels off?

The three of us sat down and horfed down as many cupcakes and pieces of cake as we could, washed down with cups of tea and coffee drenched in cream and sugar.  After about an hour of this we all felt slightly dizzy, yet happy.  You can see why this lovely tradition should never die.

Luke e mailed me that he’s having a great time in Thailand.  He said they just celebrated the festivals of Songkran and Tamboon.  These sound like loud, raucous Buddhist celebrations, hence tremendous fun.

He said he loves clowning around in the tiny village with his new family, and describes it so well I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye.  I thank God I had the opportunity to see it last November, otherwise it’d be impossible to imagine.

Luke said he was sitting out at the farm where the Bunyungs have their water buffalo, and watching dogs fighting, chickens running around and his wife Jan “talking very loudly in Isaan to her mom about some town gossip.”

Luke described eating eel and rice at the festivals, and drinking whiskey with the local Thai cops.  All of it makes me miss Thailand, and I definitely want to return there some day.  I must remember to ask him if the suitcase full of chocolate made it there okay.

Here in Opposite World, I’m trying to impose some strict order on the property, as The Germans, as we like to call them, are coming.  There are currently two relatives here at this time, and two more are expected at the end of the month.  I therefore wanted to have the property cleaned of garbage, and with any luck, I’ll have Luke’s car towed out of here to the scrap metal yard.

Yesterday Nicky’s friend Taylor kindly cleaned the sunroom roof for me, and it looks great.  When German relatives arrive, we start cleaning.  I can’t explain it, but it just occurs.  My sister in law Wendy is in a frenzy down at the Coast, as we’re all staying there the night before the relatives fly back to Germany.

So bit by bit I’m slapping the yard and house into shape, and have been forcing myself to do a bit more with so-called social media when I need a break.  I’m trying to post more on Facebook, so if you’re reading this you may want to be friends with Nuttier than a Fruitcake.  I’m attempting to post recipes and other helpful or funny articles there.

Then thanks to my faithful customer Ken out in Ontario, I’ve asked my web designer to update the testimonials part of my website.  Ken pointed out that all testimonials ended in 2008, and I told him it was due to sloth on my part, and thanked him for giving me the nudge.  I’m obviously not intrinsically motivated.

Now that I have Netflix I’ve been working my way through the old TV series, Lost, and find I dream about it as well. When you watch it nightly you’re immersed in their world, and I end up wondering if this is some kind of religious experience, or are they (or am I) high on acid?  It’s a great mystery, and as I’m on episode #42 of 100, I’ll let you know when I find out.

In the meantime, I have to get out the paint tray, paint and roller, and touch up some of the lattice around the edge of my deck.  First I have to find a nail or two to repair some broken pieces of lattice, and as I don’t own nails, it’s always the smallest details that can derail a project.  Why I don’t buy a pack of nails is another of life’s mysteries.

As mom’s able to move large pieces of furniture around in her house when she’s on a re-decorating binge, she isn’t your typical wheelchair user.  However, as we know some airports require miles of walking, I ordered one to be at the ready from Alaska Airlines for our trip this past week to Palm Springs.

The first leg of our journey was by car, as we drove from Osoyoos to Spokane.  On the way, a nice police officer pulled me over to explain that I was “going a little fast.”  However he must’ve had his quota for the day as he just gave me a warning and let us proceed on our merry way.

We were immediately lost once we’d parked in the handicapped spot at the airport.  Luckily, mom had kept Gerry’s sticker.  After wandering around lost for a while, we managed to find the terminal, and made our way to the boarding gate.

We took one of those teeny tiny airplanes with propellers to Portland, where we waited for a larger plane to Palm Springs.  Mom was met by a wheelchair and a ‘pusher’ so we put all the bags on the chair and off we went to wait.

We had a wheelchair waiting in Palm Springs, so were wheeled right to the exit, where we were met by Brigitte and her husband Bob.  I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Palm Springs, but it’s awfully cute.  There’d been a huge wind that day and bark from the palm trees was strewn over the roads.

We spent two days eating in restaurants and shopping.  Bob and Brigitte drove us around to see different sights, and we sat our in their beautiful yard.  They have a lemon and an orange tree and the fragrance from the orange blossoms was wonderful.  Hummingbirds came and went all day.

Luckily, Bob and Brigitte were babysitting a friend’s Chihuahua, so we even had a little dog around for a bit of dog love.  This little dog is 12 and was sitting there snapping at the air.  I asked Brigitte what she was doing, and she said the dog must have cataracts or floaters and is snapping at imaginary flies.  So adorable.

Brigitte took us to some stores in a nearby town, called Temecula, and we spent some happy time in Target and Nordstrom Rack.  The next day we shopped in her home town of Hemet, and went to Ross and Marshall’s.  And really, in an area of that kind of wealth, what would a shopping trip be without a stop at the local Salvation Army thrift store?

Then it was time to leave, and not wanting to inconvenience ourselves with an early departure, I said there’d be no problem at arriving at Palm Springs airport at 9:00 AM for a 10:00 AM departure.  It would’ve been a problem, but not in the magical wheelchair.  Mom hopped in, the pusher came, and we went right to the head of the line and through security.

We landed in Seattle at 1:00 and our plane left for Spokane at 1:30, yet we made it.  Yep, we even had time to spare, as we were pushed from the arrivals gate to our new departure gate within minutes.

We then got a wheelchair from the Spokane arrivals gate right to the car!  I’m telling you, I don’t care how you do it, but do not travel minus a wheelchair.

It’s raining again today which puts me in an extra-good mood regarding our trip to Palm Springs.  Mom’s friend Brigitte lives there, so we’re going to stay with her and her husband Bob.  Apparently they live in a small town outside of Palm Springs, have a large pool, and said it’s currently 28 degrees C so bring bathing suits.  Fun!

Since Mojo died Nicky says whenever I’m away Ricky howls at night.  Ricky and I sleep together every night, so when I go away he has to sleep in his dog bed on the floor, and he gets mighty lonely.  Being a hound, he likes to tip his head back and let loose with some mournful cries.

Nicky said he just screams from downstairs for the dog to shut up.  I suggested it might be better to move the dog bed downstairs so Ricky doesn’t feel so lonely.  But I can’t cancel trips because the dog’s sad, as I know he has everything he needs, just not me.

And for my nerves it’s good to get away once in a while, as you know I’m never, ever alone in this house.  Luke’s mercifully left for Vancouver, and tomorrow he’s off to Thailand to spend five weeks with Jan.

I had bought some stuff for Jan and her family, and had asked Luke to take it.  He said he certainly wasn’t going to be packing anything much for me, and if it didn’t fit into carry-on he wasn’t taking it.  Then one day he and Jan were talking on Skype and Jan said make sure you bring lots of chocolate.  And soap.

As you’ll recall, I had taken 60 pounds of gifts when I went in November, most of which was chocolate.  Then when a friend of mine from the gym went to Thailand in February I sent chocolates for her to give to Jan.  So I assumed Luke would take gifts, but he said no.

Luckily, the Mrs. is able to motivate him better than I can, so once given the order he said to me, “Mom, you have to get me 25 boxes of chocolate.”  I went to Costco and got a whole bunch of their Belgian chocolate, and then went over to Home Sense for bars of soap made in Italy.

I’m not overly hopeful about it all though, as taking 60 pounds of chocolate to the tropics is harder than it sounds.  I did it successfully because I’m a Type A, so I made sure the suitcase was kept cool under any and all conditions.  IE in the Bangkok train station: “Run! Run! We have to get the air conditioned train.”

When I drove Luke to the airport he had tumbled out of bed, straight into the car.  Teeth unbrushed, greasy hair in a nest on the back of his head.  We put the suitcase in the trunk, and when he took it out at the airport I gave him one more pep talk about vigilance, but had a sinking feeling.

Never mind.  My problems are more immediate in that I have to imagine what 28 degrees C feels like and go through my wardrobe and pick the appropriate things.  Mom and I are both taking carry-on only, so I have to be mindful of the quantity on the way there.  If I happen to shop a bit, I’ll want a bit of room, won’t I?