Because I enjoy medical things I enjoy researching on the Internet, and like to solve a lot of my own problems that way. The poor dog has allergies, so after some research I found that brewer’s yeast and fish oil capsules can help, so I’ve started him on that.

In the meantime I found an herb called Butterbur recommended for migraines, plus several other vitamins and minerals, so I bought all of those, and I’m taking handfuls twice a day. I’m not sure if anything’s working yet, but I know it’s costing me an awful lot of money. Certainly my urine’s worth more than the average person’s.

But then you know how I love to save by shopping at thrift stores, which I did this weekend. Beverly came from White Rock and we visited six thrift stores and an interesting junk store called Lois Lane. It’s an odd place where wooden furniture’s left outside in the elements.

Just like the time Beverly found a Coach bag at the Salvation Army, this time she found a pair of black Simon Chang jeans. She showed them to me, and as they were in my size I thought damn it, missed it by that much. I told her I have the exact pair in brown, and they’re fantastic.

And speaking of fantastic, I’ve been alone all week as Nicky and Haruka are holidaying in Puerta Vallarta. They’re returning tomorrow, which is when mom and I are leaving for Toronto, and then Virginia. Alison’s coming too, and we’re off to see the lovely fall foliage of the Shenandoah Valley.

I’ve been canvassing away for the Liberal party, and just had a letter to the editor published in which I asked oldsters if perhaps we are the ones who aren’t ready, as opposed to Justin Trudeau. It could be, given the way our age group is sure every tradesperson, doctor, dentist, vet or nurse coming toward us in in their teens.

Now that I have free TV, albeit just Global, but that’s fine, I love to watch the news at night. When I paid a hundred dollars or more a month for a whole bunch of channels, while I had Netflix as well, I didn’t watch the news or any TV at all. But now that it’s free, there’s something enticing about it. And it’s legal, too, so what could make a person happier?

Louie’s very spoiled and will be babysat tomorrow as mom and I are leaving in the morning, and Nicky and Haruka are arriving in the evening. Mike, the nice house painter’s going to come over and spend the entire day with the dog! But it’s good, as then I don’t have the dog’s happiness to worry about.

Today’s my final shift on the phones at Liberal HQ downtown, as then mom and I will be away until the election. I suppose I’ll be roped into driving people to the polls or something like that on the 19th, but that’s fine. I’m ga ga with anticipation over the results so may as well be kept busy that day.

And then I’ll arrive home to the dear dog, who now comes when I open a bottle of vitamins for myself. He comes when I open the fridge, or start to cook, but now has added another food call button to his brain. Louie’s completely nuts over the fish oil capsules, and gets two a day just like a treat. Hence, we both have fine, expensive urine.

As you may have read on my Facebook page, I was thoroughly owned by my bees last week. I don’t know why I thought just socks and runners would keep me safe from the little blighters. All summer I’ve been doing things with the bees, like taking off empty jars of syrup and putting on new ones, and nary a problem.

However because I was taking the two hives completely apart in order to put in a mite-fighting pesticide strip, I made the bees so mad they had to attack me viciously. My friend from the gym, Lorraine, a seasoned beekeeper, had come over to help me with this project. She said go head, lift the top box, which I did, and then soon after I was saying to her, “Oh my God, Lorraine, these bees are stinging the shit out of my ankles!”

She replied brightly, “You’re doing so great!” as I was bending down and swiping as many bees as I could off my ankles. However I had to keep going, put the hive back together, and hurried back to the house where I made a thick paste of baking soda and water for my smarting ankles.

The attack occurred around 11:00 AM and by 3:00 PM my left ankle was very swollen and I couldn’t put any weight on it. This went on for about three days, and then ended with a spell of mighty itching on both ankles. The left was a lot worse than the right, as it was the one with an actual bee beard on it.

The bees release a pheromone when they sting that calls all the other bees to that one weak area. Brilliant when you think of it. However what I found as a result of all that is I’m no longer afraid of the bees!

A few days later I went right down there, smoked the hell out of them, opened the top and just basically felt confident. I was wearing knee-high boots over my bee suit, which I believe helped bolster my confidence.

A few days ago Luke came to show me his ‘new’ BMW which he bought in Alberta, and to work on his website for his new business. It was tremendous fun to do it, and I hope you’ll check out our handiwork at http://www.freehighdef.tv.

When he told me his website’s name, I said what’s the rest of it, dot com or dot ca? He said neither. He said dot tv is a new suffix and when I Googled it, I see it’s often chosen by companies who are in some sort of video-related business, so that makes some sense.

Writing copy for a website or choosing appropriate fonts and photos is far preferable to my attempt at hanging a curtain rod yesterday. Mom got funky bamboo curtains, not blinds, for her back deck, and I just loved them, so I ordered four panels for my bedroom.

I like all wicker-themed things, as I like to pretend I live in Hawaii. I think that’s also why I buy plants like plumeria and bougainvillea. Totally ridiculous for here, but for some strange reason they provide hope in the depths of a Canadian winter.

I had to Google how to screw in those plastic things, and then went ahead and measured and installed the brackets. The next part was hilarious, as when I hung the curtains, first the rod bowed in the middle from the weight, and then all three brackets came right out of the wall! Much better for me to stick with that I know, so I immediately called Denis who said he’ll install a rod for me tomorrow.

Bee keeping, like gardening, is touted as one of those restful hobbies, yet I find both anxiety inducing. Right now I’m to be putting Mite Away strips inside the hive to kill mites living on the bees, but I’m too nervous to do it. I phoned the company in Ontario, and they seem to feel it’s quite a simple procedure.

But anything new frightens the Hell out of me, so I prefer to avoid it. If I imagine something’s going to be hard I feel the best response is to run away from it and pretend it’s not there. I suppose it’s another of the maladjusted behaviours I’ve developed over time.

Here’s another, though it’s a lot more enjoyable. If someone’s acting like a dick on the highway, I feel it’s my duty to enlighten them. So imagine my joy to find myself in one of those teachable moments as I drove home from Osoyoos on Labour Day.

A young kid with an N proudly displayed on the car decided to drive about two inches from my bumper, though he/she could easily see I was following another vehicle and unable to drive any faster. This kind of rude B.S. has to be nipped in the bud.

If you know Highway 97, you’ll enjoy this even more, as I was at the primo spot for lesson teaching: Antlers Beach. The kid was on my tail as we came down the hill into Antler’s Beach, and from there it’s no passing all the way until the light leading into Peachland.

As I came down the hill and around the corner I thought oh dear, I’d better slow this vehicle right down. We were in a long line of traffic, both ahead of me and behind. So I slowed my buggy down to about 20 km and kept that up for an awfully long time (the speed limit’s 90). The cars ahead of me were a long distance away.

Two or three minutes can go by awfully slowly if you’re following someone going 20. I figure that gives them time to understand what’s occurring. Sure enough, the kid seemed to learn, because once I had sped up to 100 and caught up to the line of traffic ahead of me, the kid kept a respectful distance for the rest of the way.

I kept hoping he/she would try the race-up-to-the-car gag again, and was saying aloud, “Do you feel lucky punk, do ya?” But they obviously didn’t, and just behaved instead.

Less joyful was the unexpected return of Nicky and Haruka after just one night of camping. They were off for “two or three nights” and I was very hopeful it would be the full three. However after 24 hours they were back, Nicky explaining the’d forgotten the most important supplies, the sleeping bags.

When I was in Osoyoos for the Labour Day weekend I accompanied Luke and Jan to a house for sale. They’re leaving the sainted Pink Casa by the end of this year as mom’s decided not to sell the orchard but to lease it to our nice neighbour. He needs the pink house for his Mexican migrant workers, and so change is in the air.

But not for this jammed up person, who’s too frightened to put mite strips into a hive.

Because mom lives in Osoyoos, it seems I make the trip up and down the Valley very frequently. Renate (aka Sam) was here from Hawaii, so she and I went to visit with a few of the old Osoyoos Elementary Junior Secondary School crowd.

First of all we stopped at Ken Kalyn’s house, and we haven’t seen him in 42 years, so that was fun. He made us a delicious hamburger soup for lunch. After that Sam and I had a brief visit with mom, and then we were off to meet Maryjoy and Phyllis and to go somewhere for dinner.

After a bit of driving around, we ate at a Mediterranean-style restaurant called Ella’s. Sam and I shared a main course of calamari, which was very good as was the pita and tsasiki.

Cars were parked along the sides of Highway 97 on our way down as the forest fires were all going strong above some of the wineries south of Oliver, and people were standing and staring at them. On the way home the next day it’d thankfully calmed down a bit, though we still saw puffs of smoke here and there.

I was in Osoyoos last weekend to clown around with Freddie and Twig. Mom had a dinner party on Saturday night, and Luke, Jan, and Nicky, among others, were there. Also Louie, the car sick dog; poor him, he’s had to travel quite a bit these days.

The smoke was even worse this past visit due to the Stick Pin fire which is raging in the northern part of Washington state. Ash rained down on my car and left a thin film. It’s really smoky here in Kelowna, but in Osoyoos it was almost dark it was so thick. I felt as though I was sitting at a roaring camp fire.

I’m sure the strange nuclear winter-like skies must upset my bees, so I’ve continued to put jars of sugar syrup on the hive for them. As you know, a beekeeper is supposed to inspect their hives every couple of weeks, but I can’t make myself do it. It’s not so much fear of the bees, as fear for the bees, because whenever frames or the lid are moved, bees get killed in the process.

My dahlias are wonderful, and don’t seem to mind the lack of full sun, which is lucky. There’s no wind whatsoever, so I think we’re going to be stuck under these grey, smoky skies for quite a while. What a bummer, when there’s lovely sun overhead but we can’t see it.

This weekend my friend Beverly’s coming from White Rock, and we plan to shop at each and every thrift store in this town. We’re both veterans at it, and I think I told you a year or two ago Bev got a Coach bag at the Sally Ann for $20. Now that’s more like it, when the usual price tag is around $200.

Then the following weekend, which is Labour Day, it’s time to get into the car and head south on Highway 97 again. The car practically drives itself at this point. If you’re on that highway, and going less than 10 km over the speed limit, and there’s a green 1998 Honda Civic a few inches from your bumper, guess who??

Margaret’s visit was a success, as we managed to eat a lot of nice food, which included a truly beautiful peach pie from Van Kalkeren’s fruit stand, which is a stone’s throw from mom’s house in Osoyoos. If I lived there I’d weigh an awful lot, as these pies are home made, very thick with fruit, and have a magnificent crust.

It was over 35 degrees most days when Margaret was here, so we mostly hunkered down in the air conditioned house as we like to do. However we also spent three hours big game hunting at thrift, and it was lucrative. Margaret now owns a Michael Kors top which she got for $3.99 and I got a DKNY short black trench coat for $7.50.

Thanks a lot to those out there who paid the usurious prices for those items the first time out. And thanks also for the kind care taken, as both looked new.

As Jerralynn’s the manager of the wine shop at Tin Horn Creek, I asked for her expert opinion on which wineries to visit this time. We’d been to Tin Horn Creek before, and I wanted some suggestions of interesting places, given there are something like 450 wineries in the valley now.

We stopped at three she recommended: Maverick, Stone Boat and Perdue, all in Oliver, and Margaret got a bottle of wine at each for the winter. Then on soggy, dark Vancouver evenings she can have a glass and recall the amazing heat of the Okanagan Valley.

The heat truly feels the way adorable Denise, the gym instructor from the East, described it. She said, you know when you have your oven set at 400 degrees and you open the door and that heat hits you in the face? We all nodded, as we were about to leave and get into our sun-soaked vehicles.

As a result of the long, hot summer, the fruit is super sweet this year. I eat great big, ripe, sweet, juicy peaches daily, and I love them so much. I recall days in the fruit stand when we’d all eat ourselves into a stupor with all of that beautiful fruit.

Alison worked there one year, and we loved going across the street to the Iceberg for a pint of soft serve ice cream which we’d eat inside a crazy-sweet cantaloupe. Mom would get mad, telling us we were eating up all the profits, but somehow it didn’t stop us.

I inspected my bee hive the other day and I still don’t see all of the frames covered in honeycomb. The beekeeper told me to feed them syrup until all 8 frames are filled in, but so far they’re not, so these bees are going to be slurping sugar syrup all summer. But you may recall it was a hive of ‘nucs’ IE baby bees, so maybe it takes a bit to get a hive going.

I do love my life, the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees; the dog and cats; cherry compote and peach clafoutis. Sure, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but running around barefoot in the yard, nails dyed black from pitting cherries, puts me into a strange state of euphoria.

I’ve noticed as I continue to chant, meditate and live in the moment, at times I feel as though I’m high on acid from joy, and just hope it’s not early dementia. Oh well.

I always like to talk to cashiers, especially those at Superstore because I go there so often. The other day I said to a nice cashier how hard I’d find it to work with the public. She said she thought so too before she took the job. She said it’s surprising, as most people are okay, plus she said she used to be a support worker and often thought about work after her day. With this job she said she just leaves and that’s that.

That’s one of the bad things about working from home, which is that home and work are intermingled, so one can never tell which is which. Hence in the day I answer the phone, “Moni speaking” to which friends reply “Alison speaking” or some smart ass answer like that.

However all of that’s minor as I have to say the happiest day of my life occurred in June 2007 when I realized I was going to be working from home for the rest of my days. It takes a small bit of discipline, but it has a lot of perks, the major ones being I can do bits of garden work all day long and hang with the pets.

I refused to clean the windows or do any sweat-inducing jobs for the past few weeks due to the intense heat. It’s finally cooled down a bit, and we had much-needed rain, and guess what? I refuse to clean the windows or vacuum in the sun room, both of which need to be done.

It’s terrible to be such a lazy person. While something like that beckons, I ignore it and instead made a batch of death by chocolate cookies. It’s a really easy recipe and one I plan to include in my July/August newsletter. But why make cookies instead of cleaning? Because it’s fun.

Margaret’s arriving on Wednesday for a few days, so we plan on doing the usual thrift store browsing. It’s my equivalent of big game hunting. Nothing makes me happier than finding a great item for a few bucks. Again, fun!

You’d be surprised how shocked some people are by that idea. At my birthday party in Osoyoos I thought it’d be of great interest, so as people talked about clothes I happily announced, “I buy all my stuff at thrift!” The assembled quietened, and some looked as though they’d been punched.

I tried hard to cheer them up by naming the labels (Liz Claiborne, Simon Chang) that I get, as well as describing things like my snakeskin loafers, bought for $3. Nothing seemed to change their mood, though Martha managed to squeak out a “Well good for you!”

I invited Martin, Diane, and Denis, to come over on Wednesday for dinner to visit with Margaret, given they’re her family. The weather’s supposed to be back to being hot, so hopefully too hot to sit in the sun room and therefore no one will notice it’s absolutely filthy.

I’m going to make salmon a la Jerralynn, which is topped with brown sugar and butter. For dessert I’ll crumble the newly-made cookies into a bowl, top with ice cream, home made cherry compote and a dollop of whip. Again, my idea of a good time.

Yesterday was my birthday so I was taken out for a fun lunch with Kathy and Petra. We went to a new Cactus Club restaurant, which is right beside the newly refurbished yacht club. So it’s really nice to sit there as one is very close to the water, looking at the boats bobbing away.

On Saturday mom had her yearly birthday party for me, which is really an annual July party, but it happens to be my birthday. She gets to invite her friends, I cooked, and it was all very nice. The one fly in the ointment was the inside round roast.

I love the butcher at Lakeview Market, and trust him implicitly. Last Friday I went in to buy a sirloin tip roast, and as there weren’t any out, I asked for one. He said he didn’t have any, but for me to buy the inside round which was better.

I said yes, but I want a medium rare roast, and he said this will work. I said really, for rare meat, you use an inside round? He insisted, so I bought it and guess what? It doesn’t work. It was tough, as I had expected it would be. Oh well.

Jerralynn made a very lovely apricot cheesecake as apricots are currently at their peak. She also made a salad I just love, which is ripe tomatoes and peaches, with sweet onions like Walla Walla sweets and basil. No dressing, yet it tastes fantastic.

Nicky went to Banff to visit Haruka, who’s working there, so I had to take Louie to Osoyoos with me. He had the usual diarhea on the way down, so I had to lift him straight into the bath at mom’s when we arrived.

Then when we drove back home he did something very hard to do. He threw up straight down from his pillow on the passenger seat, thereby getting puke wedged right between where the seat belt hooks in and the seat.

All I could do with that was shove in some paper towels when I got home, and I’ll have to wait for it to dry. Then I should be able to just vacuum any remainders of the event.

I’m hoping it’s not too hot this Saturday as I stupidly said I’d go door to door campaigning for the federal Liberals. I’ve been out a couple of times already, and each time it was fine, so that’s why I keep saying okay I’ll do it.

However the last time I went we were getting a particularly poor reception only to find a few Jehovah’s Witnesses flyers stuck in doors. We then realized we were just a few houses behind the J.W.’s so people were thinking once burnt, twice shy.

Luke gave me rabbit ears (an antennae) for my birthday which he said cost about $20. He put it on my TV and now I get the local CHBC station, which is a Global affiliate, free and in high definition. It’s the only channel I get, but I love getting it.

Other than that it’s strictly Netflix for this kid. It’s just so hard to put up with ads and also I found despite having something like 30 channels to choose from, I’d sometimes say there’s nothing on. Thanks to the genius of Netflix, now there’s always something good on TV.

We haven’t had rain in a long time. The temperatures are in the mid-30’s, so it’s the kind of weather that makes those of us who survived a fire nervous. You’ll recall we were evacuated in 2003 and that kind of thing stays with you. Camp fires are banned, which is appropriate, yet some numbskulls continue to throw cigarette butts out of car windows!

California, Oregon and now Washington are all in a state of drought, so it appears we’re next, doesn’t it? I notice more of my neighbours are letting their lawns go brown over the summer, and perhaps more people will get rid of them entirely.

I went to get my bees, which was fantastic, and they’re now sitting amidst alfalfa. When I went to pick them up Chris the beekeeper told me I have a very strong queen, and to hurry and get a second box and frames.

He also said make a jar of half and half sugar and water, and tip it upside down on the top to help them get started. Chris thought Buckerfields would have frames, and he said if I didn’t get them right away the hive was in danger of swarming!

So I drove home with a hive of bees in my trunk, and then set them in the vegetable garden area. Buckerfields had the plastic frames, and Chris sold me a second box, so I had to suit up and open the hive. I lifted out a full frame of bees and set them aside, and put one of the new plastic frames in its place.

I then put the new box on top, and added the three new plastic frames and the one frame full of bees from the bottom box. The jar of syrup went on top.

And can you believe, these blighters are drinking jar after jar of syrup. Maybe bees don’t really need flowers at all, and can just make honey from loads of sugar syrup. Who knew?

I’m kind of excited because I bought myself a new freezer. The one I had was about 30 years old, so I thought oh what the heck, I’ll splurge. And it also only kept things kind of frozen, not solidly frozen, so I felt it was time.

Then mom and I had visited Freddie and Twig the past weekend, and she showed me her fantastic Black and Decker battery-powered weed whacker and said she just loved it. I raced right out and got one today and plan to try it as soon as the battery’s charged.

I thought I could leave Louie with Nicky over the weekend, but it turned out he was driving Haruka to Alberta for her summer job there, so mom and I had to take him to Maple Ridge with us.

He hates travelling because he always gets sick. This time the minute I took him out of the car somewhere on the Coquihalla, he had a fit of diarhea, much of which stuck to the feathery long fur on his haunches and tail.

All I had was a roll of paper towels and a small can of Diet Coke which I had to waste by dumping sideways as best I could onto his ass area. Another scene, thanks to the dog, and another reminder that many times in life, only precious water will do.

A nice woman from the gym lives nearby, and it turns out her husband’s a handyman. He’s retired, gets bored, and so enjoys doing a bit of work here and there. His name’s Jurgen, and I often run into him as we both walk our dogs around the neighbourhood.

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned I needed mulch, and he offered to get it for me in his trailer. As it turned out, we had a bit of a monsoon here last week, and that’s when we decided to get the mulch. “We” meaning I was asked to go along in order to pick out the grade of mulch I wanted.

The place is past the dump, on an unpaved road, and with all the rain I said to him it’s a good thing your truck’s got four-wheel drive. My car wouldn’t have made it. I got out, ankle-deep in black mud, but get this, it was only $70 for two huge yards of mulch.

The workers loaded it up with a backhoe, and we made our way back to Kelowna. Jurgen said just keep the trailer so you don’t have to unload twice, and I said that was great. Then I had the sense to ask how long that might be, and Jurgen replied, “two or three days.”

Once he’d driven off, I tried shovelling a wheel barrow full. I looked at the enormous mound of mulch and sighed. It was now Tuesday afternoon.

On Wednesday it was raining hard, and the same on Thursday morning, though by noon the sun had returned. I got out there and shovelled for four hours, and got at least half of the trailer unloaded.

On Friday I spent another four hours, and could see I was down to one or two wheel barrows, and that’s it. I decided I could wait as my body said please stop it. It wasn’t just the shovelling into the wheel barrow. There was also the careful sprinkling of the mulch around the base of half an acre of plants.

By Saturday morning it was done, as I did the last two wheel barrows first thing, before my body noticed anything was amiss. However I then walked the dog, and went to the gym for an hour of cardio. After that I met a group of Federal Liberals for a bit of door to door campaigning.

It was about 30 degrees, full sun, and we were in what’s called the Upper Mission area. This meant an awful lot of long uphill driveways or stairs. By 12:15 I said to my campaign partner, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

I didn’t, and we made our way back to our hot vehicles and I drove home with the air conditioning on high. Once I’d been home for a while I felt fine, and thought damn it, I have to mow the lawn. I then did that, and I believe that’s when my entire body went into a full on strike.

I felt something like those poor soccer players must feel after playing in 40 degree heat in South Africa or Qatar. Or perhaps how the triathletes feel after their day in Penticton in August. Brutal, damned heat!

Those of you around my age will remember the fantastic ground-breaking TV show, Laugh-In. The hosts would do a schtick with a large finger, called The Fickle Finger of Fate. It would be used to point out some misfortune or other that had befallen a person in the news.

I was thinking of it today as I walked around lovely Hall Road with the dog. Our neighbour, Jean, two doors over, just died last week of leukemia at age 63. I met her 25 years ago when we moved here, and though I never really knew her, we always stopped to chat when we’d cross paths on our walks.

It just seemed particularly cruel in her case, as Jean walked, didn’t drink or smoke, and never said mean things about anyone. Once again it reminded me of the brevity of our time here, and how important it is to enjoy every moment and not get mad over every little thing.

Though I sure got mad at Louie the other day. Squirrels decided to move into the little dilapidated shed at the top of the driveway. Louie hates squirrels ever since one was trapped in the sunroom last year and he was within a hair’s breadth of catching it.

Louie was under the shed, as it’s suspended on the hill, and so he can get in underneath it where it’s up on stilts. I left him there for a couple of hours, but finally I started to call and call as I wanted him in and for us to get into bed.

No matter what I did, he refused to move. I pretended I had food, and that didn’t work. I then got a long stick and slapped it at him, but it was too short and he evaded it. I was practically beside myself wondering how to get that damned hound out when I saw the hose.

I took off the sprinkler end, turned it on and dragged it over to the shed. I called the dog, and he didn’t come, so I plastered him with a strong jet of water. I called again. Nothing, so I sprayed like a lunatic as he huddled in a corner. I just kept the water trained on him and finally out of desperation he gave up and came out.

There’s fine Okanagan dust under that shed, and when mixed with water, and smeared onto a long white tail, it’s all quite a mess. I had to lift the dog into the tub and bathe him before he could get into bed. I admonished him the whole time, explaining none of this would’ve happened had he listened when I called him.

You’ll note above I said I met Jean 25 years ago when we moved here, and on Monday June 1st it’ll be the 25th anniversary of me living in this house on Hall Road! Even though it often tries to kill me, I love this place.

I just watched the last 7 episodes of Mad Men and can honestly say I’m in love with Don Draper. But as I said to Margaret, Don Draper and his ilk are generally not interested in senior citizens.

However that doesn’t upset me, given the alternative, which could be the Fickle Finger of Fate in the persona of the Grim Reaper. Better to be a senior citizen than not, I say.