The Christmas before last I bought myself a small portable turntable so I can play all of my old albums.  I’m currently listening to Neal Young’s After the Goldrush and just loving it as much now as I did in 1972, albeit without the teenage angst.

The albums are an archaeological record of my growth and development.  There are a couple of very early Beatle albums, A Hard Day’s Night and Beatles VI, both of which I would’ve received for Christmas from my mom in 1965 or 1966.

After that there are several of the Monkees’ albums.  I remember Freddie’s puzzlement at my dumping of the Beatles for the Monkees, but to a 12 year old girl they were like dandelions to the bees.  I was completely besotted first by Ringo Starr  of the Beatles, and then Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees.

Not surprising then, that I decided to join the percussion section of the Osoyoos Elementary Junior Secondary School band when I was in grade 7.  I’ve written of this traumatizing experience before, however will just remind you of it again.

Every Tuesday there was an assembly in the gym, and this began with the Lord’s Prayer and Oh Canada.  The latter began with a drum roll, and that would be me.  Mr. Storwick would extend his right arm full length, and point his finger at my face.

This was the moment one lone girl had to play a drum roll for the entire student body or die.  Naturally I always did it, but at great expense to my nerves.

I was too poor for a record player for several years, so there’s a music gap until my first job in Prince George teaching the deaf.  From that epoch I can see I branched out, and from the late 1970’s there are several Bruce Springsteen, the Clash, Blondie, Graham Parker, Billy Joel and Elvis Costello albums.

Those albums don’t remind me of teenage angst, but rather of extreme drunken behaviour in the North.  Prince George from 1978 to 1983 was a trip.  It was filled with young folks, many of whom were fascinating artists and poets, and my years there were a blur of parties and bad assed hangovers.

After that there are the records that represent my move to Vancouver, meeting Denis, and getting married.  These are artists like Tina Turner, Cyndi Lauper, Huey Lewis, and Bryan Adams.  However Luke was born in 1986 so that’s where the music ends.

By the time I got around to listening to music again albums were gone, and I had to buy CD’s.  They’re fine, but they sure don’t bring me the nostalgia of my old record albums.  I wrote “Aldo and Me” and drew a heart around it on many of the Beatles albums.  Those who knew me in 1967 know that was my very first boyfriend.  Great memories!

You’ll recall I was gloating as I thought I’d sold the Richter street house, but no.  The hairdresser and husband said they found a house they liked better, and another couple who looked at it weren’t thrilled.  I’m showing it again on Monday, so let’s hope the thing moves.

But guess what?  I’m finally learning to let go of things and go with the river instead of fighting it all the time.  Total surrender, and I have to admit things are easier to manage that way.  I’m working with a wonderful Reiki master and meditating daily, so I have to say I’m pretty calm.

Today I meditated fully for 19 minutes, and I started just a while ago with 2 – 3 minutes and I’d give up.  I love the idea of just sitting and emptying the mind, as it’s a wonderfully relaxing thing to do.  The worst way to be brought out of it is with the staccato bark of the intrepid dachshund as he spots a squirrel on the telephone wire.

This weekend dear mom is turning 92 so I plan to make a chocolate cake for that.  Actually, it’s my chocolate chunk cake that the kids and everyone is really crazy about as it’s made with cocoa, and has chunks of chocolate in the batter as well.  Naturally it has chocolate icing, and made in 4 layers so a person’s a bit dizzy after eating a piece of it.

One can never really have too much chocolate, I don’t think.  When I was growing up in Osoyoos my grandparents would go to town for groceries every Saturday.  They’d come home just before Bugs Bunny would start at 4:00 PM and always had some of my favourite chocolate bars for me to mete out to myself over the week.

My friend Petra came for coffee this afternoon, and that engendered hours of cleaning.  Just for two hours of coffee, I started yesterday and was just finishing up as she knocked on the door.  I cannot believe how filthy this house can get.

But now it feels fab to sit here in a clean house as I type, looking at the bouquet of pink tulips she brought.   I feel sad about my outdoor tulips as last year I had part of the heaved asphalt driveway removed and crush put down.  This went right to the edge of my tulip bed and I don’t think they have a hope of making it back up through that.

We still have snow in our yards here in Kelowna, though Osoyoos is nice and dry as ever.  100 miles sure makes a difference, which always surprises me.  But I can leave here in a full snow storm and by Penticton there’s nothing left of the bad weather at all.

Here I am on my one thousandth diet, and hoping for the best by summer.  I’m not starving myself but have largely stopped eating sugar, so that’s got to do something.  However I’m not insane so on the weekend I will allow myself a lovely peach cocktail as otherwise what’s the point?

So with my new-found calm, I do hope I can think positively and sell the Richter street house so that I can get solar panels slapped onto the roof.  They’ll look kind of funny but I guess it’s good as they’ll be an advertisement to the neighbourhood to get with the program.  I can be a role model of how to avoid being complicit in the Site C dam.

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.

As the Organization of Events Chairperson on the local riding executive, it was up to me to plan and execute the Christmas party, designed to thank volunteers.  Because we already used the Italian hall for meetings, we thought why not rent it for the dinner.

Our poor MP flies back and forth from Ottawa most weekends, so we had to plan the party for a Saturday and by the time I called, only December 3^rd was available, so I said no problem and booked it.  In speaking with the person there she mentioned one of their members made lasagne, so perhaps I would be able to get her to make it for us.

I talked this over with the president who also thought it was a good idea so I said to Janet please let the woman know we need at least one pan, which I was told was enough for 24 people.  I then contacted all of those invited to confirm who was coming, and ended up with about 38 people.

I then called the woman herself, and said I need two pans not one.  She had a very heavy accent but replied, “Before you want one, now you want two!” and I said yes, I did.  I then asked for the address, and she had to call her husband to the phone to provide it.

Janet had told me the couple lived on Raymer Road, so I began by saying to him, “Where are you on Raymer Road?”  He, with his heavy accent replied “Raymer Road?  No, we’re not on Raymer.”  There followed a difficult back and forth, and I stated I would find it, no problem.

I then asked Alice to pick up the lasagne as I was going to Osoyoos to stay with mom and would arrive home in the early afternoon on Saturday.  I had to go to the hall with the garlic bread, salad, cookies, decorations and other things I’d bought throughout the week.  Janet provided their exact address and I’d sent it to Alice.

I had packed the last of the table centres into the car, when around 2:00 PM on Saturday December 3^rd Alice phoned, quite confused, as she said she was at the Italian people’s place, but there was no lasagne!  Our guests were due at the Italian club at 4:30.

But I guess due to my age, having had two children, ran a business, and just general good luck, by 2:30 a nice Italian restaurant in town called Il Tavolino had assured me they’d have enough lasagne for 38 people ready by 4:30 PM.

I then hurried to the hall and luckily Amarit the young secretary was there as she has a cell phone so we could call Alice for the secret code, which I neglected to bring with me.  Amarit and I made it inside, and suddenly alarms were going off madly, and the phone was ringing with the security company on the line.

We finally disabled the alarm, and set up, and I think about 35 people were at the event.  The MP spoke and answered questions.  As he spoke I said to a nice volunteer “Do you smelling something burning?”  Turns out I’d laid the garlic bread too close to the element and it was black…. there was smoke pouring out of the kitchen.

In the end, people said they’d enjoyed the event, I had help with the dishes, and all leftovers (mostly the lovely cookies made by the executive) went to the Gospel Mission where apparently all was received with great cries of joy.

I read there were rats in downtown Kelowna and gave it no further thought.  Then the other day I was looking out the kitchen window and I saw a really ugly-looking squirrel.  As I peered more closely I could see it wasn’t a squirrel but a rat the same size as an adult squirrel, but with a skinny, long tail.

All summer Louie kept going into one corner of the gardening shed, and we kept telling him to stop it because “there’s nothing there.”  And as usual with a dachshund, they don’t waste their time or energy on something that’s not real.   That must be where the rat’s nest is.

I remember all the hours Mojo spent staring at the Impala, and so we knew for sure the car was redolent with mice as she certainly never wasted her time.  I wonder what happened when that nice man who bought it arrived in Bellingham with a car full of Canadian mice?

Just now I saw bird feathers scattered about the living room, so I assumed the cats had brought in and killed a bird.  I was merrily wrapping Christmas gifts when suddenly Louie went after a fast-moving object which I assumed must be a mouse.

However I soon saw it was the bird, so I guess it was 9/10ths dead, lying somewhere unseen by me or the dog, and had a brief moment of consciousness which was immediately dashed by the dog.

Needless to say it’s not a home that “neat freaks” would enjoy.  As I type Wrecks is sprawled on the dining room table beside me, purring away.

Here’s something I find fascinating, but I don’t miss the fruitcake business at all.  In fact, I have a lot of gifts already bought and wrapped, and feel completely calm about Christmas.  Remember this time in past years?  I’d be weeping as I packaged fruitcakes well into the night.

And I must say, I’m very excited about Christmas this year because both couples will be here!  Haruka arrives any minute to start her life in Canada, so now both daughters-in-law are here.  One in the basement, and one a five-minute drive away.  I feel pretty lucky about all of that.

Mom’s still very incapacitated with low back pain so I go to Osoyoos every Friday and return Saturdays.  I love the South Okanagan.  I’m amazed at how beautiful the mountains are down there, and I can’t believe I grew up in such a lovely place.

And otherwise I continue to slug it out in my Write your Novel course through UBC.  I’ve learned so much, and realize most of my previous attempts at writing were very bad.  The techniques and craft of writing fiction are very straightforward once you know them, but if you don’t, you’re just writing a pile of crap that no one wants to read.

I hear Louie barking himself into a furor at the neighbour’s, so that’s always very invigorating to the neighbourhood.  People have told me they can hear him half a kilometre away.  What a dog!

Between that little genius Steve, the web designer, and a nice young Liberal volunteer named Danielle, I’m on my way to a new website.  Someday it’ll be as lovely as fruitcake.ca was, but for now it’s In Progress.

But that’s okay as I’m going to have to learn a lot about WordPress in order to be self-sufficient which is my goal.  I’m fine with Facebook, but really want to master my new site so I can post recipes, update photos and do other things myself as the mood moves me.

I’m now in Part 2 of 3 parts of the Write your Novel course and this section is called Draft.  I managed to cobble together 40 scenes to get my outline done, which was the goal for Part 1, called Outline.  I would’ve felt like a total loser had I not been able to do that.

As it is, I’m not doing the assignments as I don’t want to.  They involve reading other people’s absolutely dreadful writing and commenting on it.  And as it’s a pass/fail course, I don’t care.  If I “fail” but write a novel, then it’s fine, isn’t it?  Some people will “pass” but won’t have a manuscript in their hands.

Mom’s managed to pull a muscle in her back which has caused her to remain bed ridden for two weeks!  I’ve been there twice, and I think she’s finally on the mend.  Social events help, so on Friday we invited friends over and I made a very successful chicken Parmesan followed by tiramisu.

You would’ve died laughing at my attempt at the tiramisu.  I followed a recipe which started with making a standard custard of eggs, sugar and milk. I put that in the fridge, then whipped cream.  It also required strong coffee and dark rum.

Once the custard was firm I dipped lady fingers into the coffee and rum mix, and put them on a platter.  Next came the custard, then a layer of whipped cream.  Now I could see the ladyfingers were beginning to separate so the whole thing became a puddle!

I covered the mess with plastic wrap, and surprisingly, when we ate it (in a bowl, as pudding) it was very tasty.  How Costco has theirs in such a nice loaf that you can slice, I don’t know.

Because the tiramisu looked so bad I made delicious fudge brownies with icing, which we ate alongside the pudding.  I wanted to find a recipe that uses cocoa instead of squares of chocolate as I believe it makes a superior product.  I’ll post this recipe along with this blog, if possible.

So you see all of the fantastic potentials of my new site?  If I hadn’t been so lazy, I could’ve photographed the brownies, then posted that as well.  I think I’m going to get the hang of it over time as I start to see the possibilities.  If I can do something, then I’ll do it, but if the technology seems hard or scary, I run away as fast as I can.

Despite the idiocy that occurred in the States, I’m in a happy mood because 1) I live in Canada 2) it’s 50% off at Value Village, and 3) I’m on my way with my new website.