I may have sold our rental house on Richter Street, so feel happy about that.  Denis and I bought it almost 15 years ago, so it’s probably time to retire from the landlord business.  I feel pretty bad about the tenants though, as I only ever rented to people with pets because it’s so hard to find places to rent.

There’s such a nice rural feel about the place with a pig named Moose and a bunny, several dogs, and an apiary.  Really a lovely place, right downtown, just blocks from everything.  I guess Moose doesn’t know he’s an urban pig.

And once again I find myself browsing topics like Best Chickens for Cold Weather as I really like the idea of keeping a few, especially since this place is quite rural.  I’d name them, of course, and then grieve each passing.

I have big plans for the lower yard, as I want to remove everything down there except the apricot tree, and plant Russian purple garlic in all of the beds.  Isn’t that brilliant given the price of organic garlic?  I’m pretty well ga ga in anticipation of spring so I can get at it.

I also ordered a nuc bee hive, which is a new baby brood with a queen, so that I can have two bee hives.  That is if my own hive survived this cold winter, which I hope it did.  If it did, then they’ll have neighbours.

So now you’re sitting there thinking no fruitcake business, no more gym attendance, and now no more landlording.  What does the woman do with herself all day?  I ask myself that same question daily around 3:00 PM.  By 4:00 I have a cocktail and then I notice I forget about it entirely until the next day.

But other than walk the dog and visit mom who’s got a very bad back, I’ve compiled my newsletters into a book format.  This has nearly killed me as it’s mostly editing and the kind of thing I hate to do.

I end up printing it just to figure out where I am as sometimes I cut an article, paste it elsewhere, then can never find it again to delete it.  Endless scrolling and searching can lead to intense anger.

I’ve interspersed the articles with a dozen of my tested recipes, so it’d be one of those books people might like to take to the bathroom.  You know, it’s not deep reading, so would be something humorous to bring a bit of cheer to an otherwise dull day.

And then what to do with the book?  I have to find a publisher who is either drunk early in the afternoon and present it to them at dinner time, or else hope using the 7 degrees of Kevin Bacon theory I’m related to someone in the book publishing business.

Then there’s the novel I’m to be writing, and guess what, I’m still just reading!  As I lie on the couch I say to myself, but this is important homework for the book.  Every writer knows you have to read like crazy in order to write.

But first things first.  For Sale By Owner does seem to have worked, so that’s a plus.

One of my dear old orange tabby cats has gone to Heaven at the age of 13 years and 8 months.  Wrecks was just an adorable, sweet guy, and also the most destructive cat ever, hence his name.

I used to have a sectional couch on which he sharpened his claws so mightily only strips of fabric remained on each end.  He was a powerful, large cat, and he liked to sit back on his haunches and really go deeply into the sofa with his powerful big claws.

However he did adorable things, too, like adopt Louie when I brought the puppy home.  He didn’t really care much for the other three dogs.  Arnie and Mojo were already here when he arrived, and later Ricky came along.  Wrecks didn’t care a whit for Ricky.

But once those three dogs were gone and I brought Louie the puppy home Wrecks decided he liked this little guy.  They played like mad for a long time, but in the past six months or so Wrecks would just walk away from any play invitations.  He’d lost a lot of weight, and looked quite scruffy.

I Googled the issue, and it appears about 30% of older cats can get kidney failure and I believe that could have been the case.  Because he was born wild I just couldn’t picture him on any kind of a medication regime.  I was nearly killed trying to give him an antibiotic last year for his head abscess.

As a Buddhist, I thought I’d let nature take its course, but in the end, I did intervene and called the wonderful vet from Noah’s Ark Mobile Pet Care here in Kelowna.  Wrecks was going downhill rapidly so I phoned Dr. Patt and she came over and euthanized the cat in the comfort of his own living room.

It was a very nice way for the cat to go, and thanks to our current government, now people can have the same service.  It’s hard to believe that wouldn’t already have been the case, but whatever, we have it now.

In the spring when kittens are plentiful at the SPCA, I’ll drive over and go eenie meenie miney mo and get a little critter to bring home to be part of the zany Hall Road crew.

And speaking of zany, here’s something I never would’ve expected.  I read the BC SPCA discourages people from having bird feeders.  Remember I raced out and got one in the summer and was proud of myself?

The other day I looked out and it was half off the branch, glass front broken in half, roof torn.  I don’t know what kind of animal wanted to get at the sunflower seeds, but it sure dampened my desire for bird feeders.

Then when I went on line and read the SPCA doesn’t want people to have them, I went hurray, good riddance.  The dog spent the entire summer under the bird feeder eating the spent sunflower seed shells and then having some difficulty with expelling them at the other end.   So you can see there’s nothing good in a bird feeder for me.