Dangerous Yoga

Aug18

As usual, I wasn’t sky diving or practicing tight-rope walking when I hurt my back this morning. Instead, I was doing some yoga moves that I’ve done many times before, but this time my low back decided it didn’t like those poses. And now I’m so crippled I had to ask Calvin to water my fig trees as I can’t lift the heavy water jugs.

Instead I’ll have to work on my writing which I always like to avoid doing. It’s strange to have a hobby that one dreads. Why do it then? It’s not possible to explain to anyone who doesn’t write. But as difficult as it can be, I find it’s one of those activities whereby hours go by without me noticing them passing. And of course I like to see the final product, so there’s that.

Unless one is dissatisfied with the final product, as I was with book 2 of my series featuring the wiener dogs as crime fighters. I had to re-visit and re-write parts of it so that I could go onto book 3, the final one. Once that one’s written, illustrated and for sale on Amazon I’ll let you know. I think they might be nice as Christmas gifts for people with small kids.

Just as it took years to realize I was retired and could do whatever I liked, it’s finally starting to dawn on me that without caring for Mom, I have more spare time. I was very wrapped up in the probate forms and then getting the property ready for sale. Without having to drive 100 miles each way every two weeks I find I have many more days to do whatever it is that moves me.

To whit: Yesterday I drove to Trail Appliances and spent money like a drunken sailor. I bought a gorgeous induction oven, an upright freezer and a dishwasher. All high-end and I didn’t even blink at the bottom line because that’s what I wanted, so that’s what I got. Being retired turns a person into a bit of a narcissistic maniac.

I feel particularly enamoured of my new stove. Though it cost more than my first Honda Civic, the interior is cobalt blue. The exterior is white. I think I’m in love. The reason for the stove finally hit full force when I tried to make one of those roasts where you start them at 500 then turn off the oven for two hours. I made that for Calvin’s visiting friend from Hungary, and it was a disaster as my oven doesn’t hold heat. After that I went, that’s it. Cooking and baking are my hobbies.

And as these are my hobbies, I have to invite people over to eat the stuff. In the past two weeks I had Rhonda’s widower Ron, then Petra and on another occasion Marie here for lunch. I also had Mike the Eccentric House Painter here for a farewell lunch as he leaves to find his fame and fortune in Terrace, BC.

I’ve discovered brining and am nuts over it. Have you ever tried it? I got some of those extra thick cut pork chops and wondered what on Earth one does to ensure they’re done, yet not dry. Looks like brining is the answer. I put two of these massive chops into four cups of water with four tablespoons of kosher salt and left them for eight hours. Delicious and moist.

Thursday could be a dangerous day given Elsa and I are going treasure hunting. We haven’t been in several weeks which likely means the back seat heaped and the trunk full. This is another hobby that I enjoy very much, but which can also cause consternation.

 But with this bad back I may as well shop as God knows it’s probably the best therapy for it.

I Hired a Rat Catcher

Jul17

I threw in the towel on the rat catching after I was awakened at 3:45 AM by a terrible racket under my bed. It was so loud I thought it was in my room, but when I turned on the lights, I could see it wasn’t. The scrabbling went on and on, so I finally had to move into the guest bedroom. In the morning I decided to finally rid the house of this dirty rat, or rats.

A.I. gave me all the instructions. Bait a rat trap but don’t set it. Let the rat eat the peanut butter all it wants for several days until it feels totally comfortable and then set the trap. It all made perfect sense except for the instructions as to where to put these traps. I decided I needed a professional so called a company called BugMaster.

A very nice woman named Chantal came and immediately found the grease trail the rats had left so she saw exactly where they were coming in. She then checked the perimeter of the house and showed me areas where they could get in and told me what to do. Then she did as A.I. said, she baited two traps and said for me to set them in a few days.

I do hope to God the traps work as I hate living with rats. I’ve also had it with the ants as yesterday my dining room lights wouldn’t work. I called the electrician and he said he’s never seen anything like it. As soon as he began unscrewing the light switch ants came pouring out. The ants also break my air conditioner every couple of years by living in the connection box.

As you may know by now Calvin’s sweet orange tabby cat Felix never came home again, presumably eaten by coyotes which live next door in the field. A neighbour said her cat was bitten by one right in front of her and then died.

For the last two weeks a raccoon has been breaking into the chicken run, and it’s killed two of my hens, Jennifer and Heather. And the awful thing about raccoons is they only tear the crop out of the hen, leaving the entire rest of the bird. What a waste of lovely chicken. As the garbage truck had just gone, I had to bag the hens and put their carcasses in the freezer until this week.

I hired my neighbour to top the chicken run with wire, so now it might be somewhat harder for that raccoon to bust in. I’d like to complete the job with a line of electrical wiring across the top but doubt that’s possible as when I explained that to the electrician, he was puzzled and asked, “what kind of a wire are you thinking of?” This gave me the hint either he’s not the man for this, or that I’ve once again asked for something completely insane.

Sure, I find it interesting to live as though I’m a pioneer breaking trails and slashing the forest to make a clearing and build a home. However, I live a ten-minute drive from downtown Kelowna so sometimes find it a bit overwhelming to have to shop for services or products that will protect me from wild critters.

The nice woman from BugMaster said getting rid of the ants will be around $500 this fall and the same again in the spring, so on top of annoyance there are large costs associated with pest removal. But what can ya do? I can’t leave the ants and rats to completely destroy my house.

Well never mind, I’m finally doing something about it all, so I have to cut myself some slack.

Sneaky Yoga

Jul3

It’d be wonderful to be able to say one had been injured falling from a bike, riding a horse, water skiing, but no, my back is wrecked thanks to yoga. I’ve been alternating weights one day, yoga the next so imagine my surprise to find it was the yoga that injured me.  So simple, just kneel, put your left leg forward into a lunge, raise your right arm and bring it to the outside of the left knee and look toward the back corner of the mat. Just a simple twist, but for some reason, my body balked.

I’m taking advantage of it by doing even less than I would normally do, physically that is. I still have to work on my kids book as I want to complete the third by the end of this summer. Then I’ll have a nice little series of three featuring the dachshunds as the neighbourhood crime watch. You’ll be absolutely stunned when you see the illustrations an artist is doing for them.

It’s kind of insulting the way the dogs act when I clean or put on makeup. It’s like I never do these things, so when I do they think something’s up. And I suppose it must be true, as dogs are creatures of habit. When I put on makeup, I’m generally going out, or else someone’s coming. I always clean before a guest comes due to the mountains of cat and dog fur everywhere, so it makes sense.

But when I’m just at home, deciding to clean for the hell of it, no-one coming, I do feel the sting of the dogs’ quiet judgement. Alright, already, I’ll vacuum and dust more frequently if that’s what you’re on about.

Remember Joan Rivers’ old joke? You vacuum, make the beds, clean the bathroom, do the dishes, and why? Six months later you have to do it all over again.

Yesterday I made a very poor-quality roast for Calvin, Visini and their guest Dominic from Hungary. I stupidly decided I’d try something different and make a medium rare kind of roast, whereas I’m really best at the well-cooked pot roasts and stews. And of course it was tough as shoe leather, though I’d prepared for that with an immense number of fatty sides.

I’d also made my four-layer chocolate cake and distributed large pieces topped with ice cream. All of that seemed to take their minds of the dreck roast. I said to Visini the next time I say to you I’m going to experiment with something new, stop me.

Here’s something absolutely disgusting and terrifying: Calvin saw a very large rat in the storage room downstairs. About a month ago when Sylvie came to feed the cats as we were away, she said she heard a scrabbling sound. I said probably some half-beaten animal the cats dragged in. But no, it’s a healthy rat, enjoying all the Purina Cat Chow it can hold.

I wondered why I would have 7 empty cans of cat food in a day and now I know why. I’m terribly disappointed in the cats for not killing it and its kin, of which I imagine there are many given the endless supply of food. I’ve now removed all cat food and will get a few nice big strong rat traps and hope to Jesus I rid the house of them. Can you imagine?

By the next time I write, I will have celebrated the first birthday of my life without my mom. I had 71 of them with her, so that’s quite an extraordinary number. Mom being the kind of person she was, she always held large outside galas on her deck in the Osoyoos heat. This year I’ll be busy setting rat traps instead and that’s fine, too.

Bargaining with Myself

Jun18

 I love the garden, but I hate gardening, so I’ve discovered the best way to handle this is to bargain with myself. I say just go out for an hour, or even half an hour, and if you really can’t stand it you can stop. It seems to help me get out there every day to do something, whether watering, weeding or dead heading. Whatever works, I figure.

Feeling adventurous, I thought why not try shopping like most humans, and went to the mall. It was a bad experience as I wasn’t used to trying stuff on, as thrift stores have stopped allowing that. So in the change room I felt tremendous pressure to pick something, anything. I left one store with a sweater that’ll be fine in the fall, and I bought a pair of jeans at Reitman’s.

Two days later I returned the jeans, as I discovered I’m not a retail shopper, nor a jeans-wearer. I then thought maybe on-line shopping is the answer and ordered a pair of pants. When they arrived and I picked up the bag I thought my God these are heavy. Then tried them on and in winter if it’s below minus twenty, I should be fine in them. Not sure why I’ve kept them, maybe to forever remind myself that retail is wrong for this woman.

To whit: on Tuesday Elsa and I went treasure hunting and I came home with the back seat heaped in clothing. I got a pair of Michael Kors pants and also a top from the same company, and for a total of $8 I have a much better outfit than I could ever find at the mall for a couple of hundred.

I’ve discovered a good use for A.I. is to ask it questions about one’s food intake and weight. As a result, I think I managed to get rid of a couple of pounds of unsightly fat as I was reminded eating carbs is going to make for a very big stomach. It’s kind of like having your own life coach right at your fingertips.

Marie and I went out to lunch at Cactus Club down at the lake and each had a Bellini. Then we were asked by the manager if we wanted another and said no thanks. She said they’re free. We were like okay, where are the cameras? She said no gimmick, just a free drink and we said alright and were thrilled with ourselves.

The cats continue their rodent hunting and eating. Yesterday I stepped on something wet, cold and hard on the kitchen mat in front of the sink and went yikes! It was just the snout and one organ from what appeared to have been quite a large rat. The other day I unrolled my yoga mat, and a little mouse ran out only to be murdered instantly by the dogs.

I made the mistake of buying a 1.75 litre bottle of Cazadores tequila, and so there have been quite a few parties here for myself, the dogs and cats. They’re disinterested in cocktails but are good company as I down a couple of tequila sunrises. I’m not even going to bother asking A.I. if the grenadine is bad for the waistline. I don’t need a party pooper right now.

Joy! You can now go to the Okanagan Regional Library and find my memoir Nuttier than a Fruitcake, a Memoir of Batter, Blunders and Becoming. Please check it out and if you read it, give me your feedback, as I’m always trying to improve.

I’m now working on book 3 of the dog series, The Low-Down on Crime starring Louie and Frieda. My illustrator has done such a wonderful job I just hope my writing does justice to her excellent work.

I’m Finally Addressing the Stomach

Jun5

 I finally got so fed up with my large girth that I’ve started a serious program to counter it. My arms and legs, also my ass, appear to be normal-sized, but my stomach looks like I’m a couple of weeks away from giving birth. A wonderful miracle at my age, to be sure. But because it’s both visceral and subcutaneous fat, it’s simply gotta go.

The thing that pushed me right over the edge was finding a cute dress that was perfect in every way, except for one area. Yes, the stomach. So now I’m going to try to avoid sugar and flour and see what that brings. God knows the alcohol’s staying, as that’s as necessary as oxygen to this carcass.

I don’t think a soul’s looked at Mom’s property, and I’m perfectly fine with that. Now I want it to take forever to sell so that I can use it for a vacation home. God knows I’m hoping it’ll be unsold at the end of September when the Ya Ya’s are having a reunion. I believe Renate’s unavailable due to just coming home from Europe at that time, so it’ll just be the five of us.

The iffy part’s the accommodation, which is at Mary’s house in Osoyoos. It means sharing rooms and that’s one thing I’ve realized is not good for my sleep. Some poor person is going to be on a hideabed in the living room, and another sad soul has to go outside the house up a set of stairs to sleep on a cot in Mary’s bedroom. Sounds glam, right?

I think you can see why I’m willing the stars for Mom’s place not to be sold so I can drive over there and sleep like a log. It’s a strange venue when we’re all retired boomers with means, but whatever. I said I’d prefer a nice Airbnb somewhere in the south Okanagan, but the others went hell no, we want to bunk up and have a pajama party. Jesus.

I discovered tubi.com so am now watching old movies such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Midnight Cowboy, The Stepford Wives and many more. Some I’m watching for the second time, hence I haven’t seen them in 50 years…. Perhaps I should be trying to get with the more recent times, but honestly when you haven’t seen a movie in that long it seems new.

My nice neighbour Jim came over with his saw and tried his best to fix the awful-looking fence I had built. He managed to get all the tops even which helps a lot, but it’s still an ugly fence. I wonder what a person does with something so hideous? Years ago, I would’ve gone berserk over something like that, but either thanks to age or alcohol, or both, I’m able to shrug. Oh well.

As you know I’ve been working on my second kids’ book featuring Louie and Frieda as dachshund detectives. The other day, just before the deadline for the kids’ book writing contest, I realized what I’d typed the day prior hadn’t been saved. I then worked for nine hours straight so that I could hope to recall the changes that I’d made. By the time I had my submissions ready for the contest I was a wreck. Cocktail, please.

My grandniece River posted something on TikTok that netted 6 million views and 1 million likes, and she said maybe I would do well with the mutts. I’m sad to say I have an Instagram account that I might remember to look at once a month or so, hence I have low expectations as to how I’d fare on something like TikTok. But hey, I’ll sign up and give it a shot because it might be a fun venture.

Bears, Deer, Ants

May21

Imagine my surprise to enter the chicken coop to find the feeder pulled down off the chain and thrown out through the coop door; the Tupperware of chicken feed was opened and dragged, and plastic was torn from the wall in one corner. I emailed Calvin and said some crazy raccoon must’ve gone into the coop. An hour later I got the video taken by our outdoor camera of a black bear zipping in and out of the coop.

A chicken would come out, then the bear, then two chickens went under the coop followed by the bear. All chickens survived! It was quite a dusty ruckus out there, and where was I and the dogs? Right here in the house calmly washing dishes, listening to YouTube and napping (dogs). This was all going on just meters from the house and I had no idea.

So then I got a company to come in and build a fence to keep bears out, and that’s a topic for a psychiatrist’s couch. Very traumatizing to come home to something that resembles a high security prison wall and has all the charm of one used for a firing squad. And the thing is, it still won’t keep out a determined bear so whatever all of that was about I have no idea.

Then a few days ago I heard intense barking and came out to two deer just inches from the dachshunds. They were barking furiously and I know a deer can mess up a little dog, so I was screaming for them to come. Suddenly one got crabby and gave Lou a push with her foreleg, like, get outta here, dog. He wasn’t hurt and both dogs finally came in.

We have millions of ants marching into the house at all times. Calvin got big pails, filled them with borax and put them into the yard hoping to attract the pests, but no, nothing. Today when I was gardening I suddenly felt something in my ear, and sure enough, an ant. I think the entire attic of this house must be a giant ant’s nest, but whatever. They have to live too, I guess.

On the long weekend I went to Osoyoos as did my nieces and their families for a farewell to Mom. I stupidly didn’t have anyone take pictures for me on my camera, so I have none. I’ve begged the nieces for them but can only hope they take pity on their old aunt. I was going to ask our neighbour Lynne to come and take a group photo but neglected to do so.

All of the food I’d prepared was eaten with great joy. On Friday night we had lasagne, and on Saturday it was roast pork. Sunday’s dinner was chicken Marbella. I’d also baked (see last blog) and all of that except for a few muffins got consumed. Dinner for 11 twice, and dinner for 8 once was a challenge, but a very doable one.

You know how competitive I am, so I’m going to enter the Canadian Children’s Society of Children’s Authors, Illustrators and Performers (CANSCAIP) writing contest. My books featuring the dachshunds as the neighbourhood crime watch is for kids ages 7 – 9. The very nice thing about this contest is that it’s super cheap and they also provide feedback which is the most valuable part.

I made the worst lunch ever for Mother’s Day for my friends Gitte and Roxanne, as I thought I could make vol au vent shells from frozen puff pastry. Luke’s coming tomorrow to help Calvin work on a car so I’ll make dinner for the three of us and will hope for more of last weekend’s successes.

Mom’s Property is now For Sale

May8

 Mom’s property is now listed, so please check it out: https://brandongrass.com/listing/10385279
I’ve spent days there fixing things up and trying to make it all as adorable as possible. When I describe it to people it seems most appropriate for dreamers. Because it has the larger and smaller homes, plus the 100 feet of private lake, the possibilities are endless. I feel embarrassed by the price, but this is what the realtor felt was the right one, so okay.

Calvin had another successful birthday party here on Hall Road. His friends are all so nice and I feel flattered they’d want an old bat to hang out with them. Of course I have much worse habits than any of them do so they’re probably all thinking ‘Jesus, can ya dial it back a bit, lady?’ Boomers – we’re still stuck in the 1970’s.

Calvin had ordered Korean chicken, half of which was delicious and the other half was so hot some people couldn’t eat it. I, however, had foolishly taken three pieces of it, and damn it, I was going to eat it if it killed me. It nearly did, and I’ll spare you the details of the following morning. Suffice to say Calvin also agreed next year more of the honey soy and less of the Incinerate Yer Esophagus variety.

I’m thrilled to announce I’ve found a wonderful, talented illustrator for my series of three kids’ books featuring Louie and Frieda. They imagine themselves the detectives of the neighbourhood and constantly misunderstand clues and do funny, damaging dachshund things along the way. The first one is being illustrated right now, and the second book is soon to go to my editor, so the series is coming along.

I never in my life imagined I’d enjoy writing kids’ books, but the dogs are naturals for hilarious hijinks. Many of the things the dogs do in the books are real-life experiences I’ve had living with the breed. They’re not called ‘the comedians of the dog world’ for nothing. If you have kids, I hope you’ll order The Low-Down on Crime when it comes out.

Louie’s now 13 and his teeth are in such bad shape the young gals who do the non-anesthetized dog cleaning won’t do his anymore. He’d have to go to the vet and go under to have them done, and at his age I wonder if it’s wise. He also went to the special eye vet, and she noted the little growth on his eyelid and said given his age we should probably leave it. Then added “of course if he lives to 18 we’ll be mad we didn’t do it.”

Sigh. Life’s filled with choices we aren’t able to make. Then we make a decision, and it’s wrong, so we become paralyzed. Did I say “we?” I meant me. You’ll recall I decided to sit on the stage for Guys and Dolls, which I then did, and it was non-threatening. It was fun to be sitting there and thankfully I wasn’t asked to perform a song or a dance, so it was the right choice to make this time.

Sylvie came for Happy Hour (actually dinner) and I made chicken skewers with pineapple and green pepper. I learned a trick for improving chicken breast meat which is to marinate it in a bit of oil mixed with a teaspoon of baking soda. It actually turned out very nicely; then a few days later I made the old Ina Garten panko-crusted salmon for Marie and I for lunch.

Cooking and baking are what I do to help me remain calm. When Mom’s listing first came out it had errors in it which caused a useful frenzy of pineapple upside down cake, cookies and brownies.

I’ll Be on Stage

Apr23

 I’m not sure why I say yes to these things, but I must have some kind of secret desire to scare the beJesus out of myself. I got an email saying we see you’re attending Guys and Dolls at Actors Studio on Saturday, would you like to upgrade to seats on the stage? It alleged one would be part of the experience. I thought sure, why not? Then asked Sharon if she wanted to upgrade and she said, “God no, think of all the shit they’re gonna make you do.”

I then panicked and phoned the theatre, and said what does being part of the experience actually mean? The nice young man explained I’d be on stage, but would not be asked to sing or dance, but that the actors would “interact” with those of us in these seats.

Again, much pondering. So I asked AI what does interact mean, and they explained in the play there are a couple of times where we are part of a café scene, or else in a gambling establishment. The actors will sing and dance around us and we have to act casual…. AI said don’t look at your phone or look bored, as if that would be any part of my thought process when in front of an audience.

I immediately perused my wardrobe for something appropriate, but the dress I want to wear doesn’t really warrant any kind of hose, given it’s sleeveless, so instantly smeared self-tanner on my legs. I’ll wear a nice medium platform heel and take a clutch rather than a purse. Perhaps throw on a small bolero type jacket in case it’s cool. This will be an experience alright.

In the meantime, my cat Iris has lost big patches of fur due to over-licking. I had the vet examine her, and she said the cat’s nerves are shot. She grilled me on what is going on with the cat, and I said honestly nothing is different. Perhaps she had an encounter with a coyote that I don’t know about, but other than the unknown, all is normal. But the vet said we have to be vewy vewy quiet around kitty.  Shhhhh.

The vet also explained the cat may need to go on Gabapentin twice a day if it doesn’t resolve, so we’re kind of leaving the cat alone in the hopes she stops the obsessive licking. Before that she’d also need skin scrapings and blood tests, so until all of that occurs, we’re going to try to keep the cat from any upsets.

I got a wonderful email from the Okanagan Regional Library saying my book Nuttier than a Fruitcake will be in the system! So I can use that bit of news if I ever bother to move this carcass and get into small bookstores to see if they want to carry it. At this moment, no marketing at all is occurring.

And that’s largely because of all the prep work in getting Mom’s property ready for sale. I was there on Sunday working extremely hard, and again Monday morning as the videographer came. It was a sunny day, so I hope the video, drone and still photos all turn out well.

Phyllis and Mary came for lunch at Mom’s house on Tuesday and said it was just as shiny as a new penny, if you remember pennies. Anyway, very clean and tidy. The deck was all nicely vacuumed by me, and the lake piece was finally cleared of debris and decently decorated. Luke had actually cleaned out the garage and taken a lot of crap to the dump.

My religious friends are all praying for me to sell the house quickly. The realtors open house will occur pretty soon, and right after that the signs will go up. May the Muse of Selling descend upon me.

Beautifying Mom’s Property

Apr9

 I had to do all the things on Mom’s property that I hire people to do on my own. Nearly killed me. I was there for four days over Easter, painting, cleaning, planting, pruning, decorating, all in an effort to get the place looking as lovely as it can be. I feel quite satisfied with the interior, and I have Trent, a friend of Luke’s doing paint touch-ups on the exterior.

What I’ve found tremendous fun is gathering the adorable things I want to put on the lake piece. I’m getting Trent to paint the deck and I’m going to put some hanging pansies on the giant wooden wall our neighbour has erected between properties. I’ve also bought a giant colourful umbrella, matching pillow, and tin signs for the bar Luke and Calvin constructed.

I told the realtor I need at least a day’s notice prior to the drone, video and photographs because I want to fix everything up. I plan to put two glasses and a bottle of wine on the bar, and I have a cute blue and white tablecloth to give it that totally French country look. The goal is to build the fantasy in the buyer’s mind, right?

Sadly, the worst of it all is the perimeter of Luke’s house as well as the garage. Both give the opposite effect of the lake piece, one of oops, you’ve accidentally crossed over into a garbage dump. It’s not what I want at all, and neither does the realtor.

I made everyone’s favourite breakfast casserole, the one made from toasted croissants as a base, and then you add bacon, cheese, and an egg and milk custard. Leave it overnight in the fridge and bake the next morning. Everyone weeps a bit as they’re eating it. I also made those naughty chocolate, peanut butter and fruity marshmallow squares. Again, much blubbering from joy.

I went into the Osoyoos Museum with a few copies of Okay, I’ll Bite along with Nuttier than a Fruitcake as they had invited me to do so. I was thrilled as I’d forgotten all about marketing and that reminded me, oh yeah, you have to market these books if you expect them to sell.

That then got me back into seeing where else I might flog them and happened across the Okanagan Regional Library which allegedly stocks local authors. In any case I applied, so maybe? Even if they don’t, I can use the Osoyoos Museum and the 15 five-star reviews on Amazon as I drive around trying to sell my wares.

I’m reverting to my childhood as I now have several Barbies all nicely dressed and held up in special holders so that I can sit and admire them. You probably don’t know that in the 1950’s and 60’s Barbie’s clothes were influenced by couturier designers like Balenciaga, Dior and Chanel. They were hand-sewn in Japan and used real zippers, finished linings, and real leather and suede accessories.

I’m fortunate to have a few of these beautiful clothes and I also inherited several from my friend Bobbi. I have her Barbie dressed in a black strapless gown called Solo in the Spotlight, made in 1960. I know you probably think I’ve finally lost my marbles, but no. It’s more a trip down memory lane but with lovely vintage things.

Or perhaps an escape from the next big hurdle since I conquered probate: sell mom’s house!

A Bizarre Amount of Cooking

Mar26

 After my trip to Mexico and Belize, followed by two and a half weeks of “Bill” in the house, I found myself terribly behind on lunches for friends. To catch up, I ended up scheduling almost back-to-back meals, lunches and dinners alike.

On Saturday, I made Ina Garten’s panko-crusted salmon with Amish pasta salad and a green salad for Chad and Miranda. Since it was Chad’s birthday, I also baked a vanilla layer cake with strawberry cream icing. The next day, Marie came for lunch, and I whipped up her favourite: Cactus Club-style chicken lettuce wraps.

Tuesday was Petra’s birthday, so I hosted a dinner for the Crones. The menu included chicken thighs in Dijon cream sauce, scalloped potatoes, a sweet-and-sour cucumber salad, and a tossed green salad to start. After nearly a week of kitchen marathons, it was a treat to meet Gitte for lunch at Joey’s. All I had to do was eat—and drink. Sadly, cocktails nearly cost as much as the main meal, so you really have to want that drink. I always do.

Wednesday Patricia came for lunch. Since her birthday had just passed, I made a fish stew, kind of a bouillabaisse with mixed seafood in tomato sauce, and toasted sliced baguette smeared with a roasted red pepper and garlic mayonnaise for dipping. It turned out very well, if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow Elsa’s coming for lunch, and Saturday Sylvie’s coming for dinner, so the cooking continues. Like Alison’s mom Pauline, I love sprawling on the couch, flipping through cookbooks, and plotting my next culinary experiment. So far, no one’s complaining.

I’m going to haul dozens of containers down to Osoyoos and fill them with dirt and probably pansies. I need to pretty-up Mom’s house and the property in general. I don’t have any time for the garden here in Kelowna that’s for sure, though I’ll plant my usual dahlias as that’s where I draw the line on sacrifice.

Thinking of the contents of Mom’s house is terrifying. I’ve harboured this strange fantasy of someone buying the house and saying they want to keep everything in it. But why would they? It hasn’t really been updated in forty years, so it’d have to be someone with a strong yearning for the 80’s.

Well, never mind. The nieces are coming for the May long weekend for a small family good-bye to Mom and Gerry (both boxes of ashes are side by side in Mom’s closet), and I’ll see if the girls are interested in any of the items there. For instance, Mom has at least 100 paintings, so that’s a big problem.

Between my fear of becoming a hoarder and the glut of items I’m about to face at Mom’s, I decided it was time to clean out my linen closet. It was scary to see how my mind works. Does anyone really use 18 tablecloths? Why did I buy the three matching towels with the giraffe-themed border?

I know what you’re thinking. Didn’t I say Elsa was coming tomorrow? Yes, she is, and yes, we’re doing our usual treasure hunting prior to lunch here. I just have to pray very hard to the Muse of Not Finding Anything to descend upon me tomorrow.