Last weekend I had a lovely visit with Beverly and Lori, two pals who were also teachers of the deaf.  I wonder if we have common personality traits and that’s why we chose that profession.  We have some common traits for sure, and one of them is we were born to shop.

We started at my favourite store, the Helping Hands, and we proceeded from there.  By the time we arrived home, after visiting four thrift stores, we were all carrying precious purchases that made us very happy.

They left smartly on Sunday morning, and Louie came in from the yard and started vomiting like crazy.  I thought what the heck?  After about seven times and his stomach was empty, he sat out on the deck.  I was looking at hime from the side and realized his lower left lip and jaw were swollen and deformed, Nutty Professor-style.

I looked at his lip and saw what I think must’ve been a wasp sting, as there was a red bite mark.  I looked this up on-line and it appeared he may have had an allergic reaction due to the vomiting.  However after an hour or so, despite being swollen he didn’t act sick so I thought I’d walk him.

That was a mistake as a block away I ran into a neighbour and the dog started vomiting up white foam.  I explained what happened.  She said, “Oh dear, he doesn’t look very good.” I then had to pick up the nearly 20 pounds of solid little dog and carry him back home.

On my way I was chuckling at how my pets only ever need a vet when the regular clinics are closed and one must go to the emergency vet.  I know the drill.  You phone for an appointment, and the girl tells you due to your own dumb luck, you must pay $100 just to enter.  And then of course regular vet fees apply from there.  Of course.

But on the site it also said Benadryl would stop an anaphylactic shock, and it said that’s likely what the vet would give the dog.  I thought why not just the antihistamine myself?

I got into the car and raced to the drug store, envisioning the dog succumbing to anaphylactic shock, praying he’d be alive, and fortunately he was.  I gave him the Benadryl and an hour later the swelling was completely gone.

I got the usual stink eye from the young pharmacy assistant as I said “Where is the children’s Benadryl?”  She pointed it out for me and I said, “Now this is for a 20 pound dog, what amount do you think I’d need?”  The insecure assistant said snarkily, “I do people medicine, not veterinary medicine.”

So to be annoying I stood there and read the back aloud and said “Oh that’s fine, see here it says for a baby of this weight, I need this amount.  That’s perfect, thanks” and went to the till.

Now with the nearly $200 I saved from curing the dog myself, I can really go to town at the thrift stores over the next few weeks.

When I moved to Prince George for my very first job as a teacher of the deaf, I was a fresh-faced 24 year old, crazy with excitement about what the North might have to offer.  It was a very interesting five years, and I can honestly say that town taught me how to drink.

At the same time a woman named Marilyn arrived for her very first teaching gig as well.  Naturally we became fast friends and I’ve kept in touch with her ever since.

Last week she was on her way through Kelowna to Cranbrook, so she spent the night here.  I asked her if she still remembered the night I made spaghetti with green sauce and she replied she’d never forget it.

It was some disgusting pesto sauce, made with basil, pine nuts, garlic and olive oil.  I think, as that was 36 years ago and I’ve never made it again.  For accompaniment I made Margaritas, and we began the evening with a whole can of snails.

Escargot was all the rage at that time, thanks to the Keg, so I bought a can and stuck them into individual shells along with a pile of garlic butter.  I felt a bit sick doing it as some of their antennas and underbellies were hideous and repellent.  I closed my eyes at times.

Anyway, I made the 36 escargots and after we’d each eaten 18 we went on to the spaghetti and basil sauce.  All of this was washed down with endless Margaritas.

The next bit is fuzzy, but I recall a young twentyish male neighbour from upstairs, who we’d somehow coaxed into our lair, saying we should all head downtown to a club.  I thought this was a marvelous idea so off we went.

That was a Friday, and I was so sick that I was hungover for two days.  Finally by Monday morning I was able to get up and dress and head out to teach an adorable group of kids.

I’d forgotten that Marilyn only endured it for two years and then she had to get out of Prince George.  I made it a whole five years there, so I feel quite hardy.  In those days, the winter temperatures were routinely minus 35 degrees with a lot of snow.

And tomorrow Lori and Beverly, two more teachers of the deaf formerly from Prince George, will be arriving for a weekend visit.  We’ve all known each other for 36 years and have kept in touch.  I think it’s likely due to the bonding one has to do in such a harsh environment.

I still laugh whenever I think of the identical pair of cowboy boots Beverly and I bought at the Woolco.  They were completely treadless, hence a stupid purchase for the frozen north.

One night after we’d drunk ourselves into a stupor someplace, we were walking along the sidewalk to my apartment, and I was wearing the boots.  I started slipping on some ice and grabbed Bev.  I pulled her down and she fell, yet somehow I remained upright.  I still remember how mad she was at me for that.

I’ve realized that Value Village is a bit of a rip-off and I’m a bit wary of the Salvation Army’s prices so now I mostly shop at a bunch of smaller thrift stores.  Not only do I shop at them, but I do it on the days items are 50% off.

Today I got two pairs of sandals and a purse for $8.50.  Now that’s more like it.  At The Village one might get a single item for that price.  However I have to hand it to them for good house wares, as I got a Braun coffee grinder there for $5.

I now have ten pairs of black sandals, and then it goes on from there.  You know, five each of brown and navy, a white, some multi-coloured, etc.  I need to move my summer foot gear into another closet and bring out the fall and winter stuff.

But honestly, when a pair of leather shoes in pristine condition is $3, it seems crazy not to get them.  Perhaps a good side line for me might be to sell some of this excess on E Bay.

I finally broke down and got out my fruitcake boxes, started to count them and the labels, took inventory of what I have on hand, purchased some pecans and generally made stabs at getting started for Season #11.

It’s incredibly freeing not to have to worry about providing high volumes to stores any longer, because as you know all of my sales are now going to be from my website.  I feel kind of bad for the stores’ staff as I know what I’m like when I get used to an item and it’s suddenly not there.  Perhaps they’ll kindly direct customers to my site.

I spent quite a bit of last week trying to help Luke with his and Jan’s immigration situation.  I was able to speak to our MP and he said he would look into our case, which is very nice.  Jan had to sign a consent, get it notarized, then courier it here.  All very costly for what I’d think is a straight-forward immigration matter.

But we found out that it can take up to 30 months IE 2.5 years for Jan’s application to get processed through Singapore.  Luke was just notified last month he’s been accepted as a sponsor, so that means sometime around February 2017 we may see Jan in Canada!

I was all excited to be going to my good friends the Lynchs’ daughter’s wedding on Saturday, but woke up at 3:00 AM and then developed a migraine.  I spent the entire day feeling really sick, and on top of that, very disappointed.

Migraines and kidney stones appear to be the scourge of my elderly existence. And when you think of how little I drink due to intense hangovers, and how much I exercise, sleep and my passable eating habits, you really have to wonder.  It’s got to be some dreck karma leftover from a previous life.

Catfishing is the term for being scammed by people who pretend to be someone they’re not on social media.  You’ll recall my two instances of it on that dating site, but I did find one good use for the catfishers’ e mail addresses.  I use them on those sites that ask if you want to subscribe to a newsletter.  So I figure that helps even out my karma a bit.

The other week I had to take my car into the garage for some work, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.  I thought why walk the dog, then take in the car and walk home alone, when I can drive there with Louie and we can walk home together.  I think it’s something like 5 or 6 KM.

Once I’d handed over the car, Louie and I proceeded to walk along Springfield Road with cars zooming by.  He’s a rural dog, so wasn’t really accustomed to so many whizzing vehicles.  However he trotted along on his leash, and we crossed and walked along busy Benvoulin Road.

There’s no sidewalk so we walked in the bike path and then I was glad to turn off onto little Fisher Road and then over onto KLO Road and prepared to cross the little bridge over Mission Creek.  It’s a metal walkway, and Louie balked, but there’s a solid strip that runs parallel to the road, and though he was reluctant, he walked on that.

Suddenly he decided to jump through the fece and was on KLO Road, on the bridge.  I immediately tried to pull him toward me, but he did that thing dachshunds do so well.  He put all his weight into all four paws and hunkered down.

Because weiner dogs are shaped like pencils, I easily pulled the entire harness off the dog.  Now he was running loose on a busy road, and I was standing there, arms raised, stopping traffic in both directions.  I was calling the dog, who paid no attention whatsoever.

Thankfully two nice young men in a jeep were stopped at the corner of Spiers Road and opened their doors and called him.  He ran right over, hoping for petting, and they held him as I put on his leash.

That was heart stopping.  When I’m running after him he thinks he should run faster and faster.  Hurray!  What a great game. I of course feel like murdering the dog.

A couple of days ago there was a thud in the sun room and I saw Wrecks the cat peel out of there.  I opened the door and saw a large black squirrel the same moment Louie did.  He raced into the room and the squirrel was trying to escape and was hitting all four corners of the room with all its might.

Again the dog wouldn’t listen as I screamed “Louie! Louie!” and so I had to go and open the sun room door fully, and hope the squirrel wouldn’t fly into me.  Once I’d done that I retreated to the living room, and then heard the dog emit a long scream.  I thought he must’ve been hurt and looked out only to see him high tailing it after the squirrel as it made its way out of the room.

He then spent the next 90 minutes pacing into and out of the sun room and looking up into the trees, and generally exhausting himself.  At 8:00 PM I had to pick him up and carry him inside where he vomited four or five times.

You know how marathoners and other athletes get sick after a lot of exercise?  He then slept like a log and was fine the next day.

My dad used to make a beautiful concoction, and I believe it was very similar to a French pudding called a clafoutis.  Julia Child has a recipe for cherry clafoutis in Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  I tried it with cherries, which are traditional, and have to say I prefer my dad’s way, which is to use peaches instead.

Dad’s clafoutis was made in a pan on the stove, but the real clafoutis is made in the oven. My dad put ripe sliced peaches in a pan with butter.  He then made a dough of eggs, flour, milk and sugar, and poured that over the fruit, and then let it simmer until firm.  Delicious!

The French clafoutis is similar, in that one puts the fruit in a baking dish, pour the batter over the fruit and then bake it in the oven.  I first made it in Osoyoos when Jim and his new boyfriend Brian came for the weekend, and everyone seemed to like it.  I served it mighty hot though, and decided next time it needs to be warm.

I made another peach clafoutis for Marilyn, who came for lunch last Sunday.  I hadn’t seen Marilyn in two years, and she’s the great friend who used to work in my business, Rucastle and Schiller Workskills.  She also worked for me at Nuttier than a Fruitcake, and rented one of our houses downtown for 11 years until she was displaced by Denis himself.

For Marilyn’s visit I tried sprinkling a package of vanilla sugar and brown sugar over the top after it came out of the oven.  Then I served it warm with whipped cream and Marilyn really liked it and asked for the recipe, which I figure is a good sign.

On Wednesday Luke phoned and said he had a few days off between oil rig drills, so was heading home and would be here in time for dinner.  He’d already invited his friend Tyson over, so I phoned Denis and invited him too.

I had bought some cherries so thought oh what the heck I’ll try the traditional cherry clafoutis today for something different.  That was a mistake, as the cherries don’t get all nice and soft like the peaches do.

As you may know, Luke is renting the pink house in mom’s orchard as his home base when he’s not working, so he headed right down there on Thursday morning.  I was glad for the peace and quiet as I’d had too many peach martinis the night before.

Before he left I struck while the iron was hot and asked him if he might help an old lady with her large property and implored him to weed whack around the vegetable beds for me.  He looked surprised for a moment, but then composed himself and said why sure.

I walked the dog, and when I got home it was done and he was already heading south, without a good bye as usual.  I guess he just thinks I’ll figure out he’s left on my own, and of course he’s right, it’s just odd.  However, I shrugged, as the job was done and that was the main thing as it’s too hard for me to do.

I went down there with the dog and decided to weed near the beds and sure enough I managed to grab a wasp and was stung between my index and middle finger on my right hand.  As I was sick already, I took this as a sign, and headed straight into the house to lie down.

My guest bedroom has been fire engine red for about 15 years, so last week I decided to paint it a shade of gold.  Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to remove the valance or mirror, so decided my best approach would be to leave that one wall red and say I wanted a feature wall.

The painting didn’t go too badly, except for the overall body pain after I was finished.  But I like to think of the money I save whenever I embark on these projects.  And besides a few bits of paint in the wrong places, it looks quite nice.

I need a bed table for that room, so I went to my fav thrift shop, the Helping Hands in downtown Kelowna.  They had a couple of bed tables, but they were too large, and instead I found an original water colour, all nicely matted and framed, which I bought for $20.

The sticker on the back showed the original price of $420, so I felt quite happy with that find.  I hung it in the newly-painted room and it looks great.  I still need to continue to hunt for the bed tables so imagine the stuff I’m going to end up with!

Petra and I, along with her sister in law Cheryl, had lunch at the Harvest Golf Club last week and I had the most delicious martini.  It was made with peach-flavored Absolut vodka.

I raced out and bought a bottle and would recommend it highly.  It’s delicious mixed with orange juice and still tastes very peachy.  Unfortunately it’s one of those highly drinkable concoctions, so I have to be careful because a hangover is always lurking, waiting to pounce if I make one wrong move with alcohol.

Another thing I’m loving right now is a series on Netflix called Cosmos: a Space Time Odyssey.  It’s so interesting and really helps a person to get a grip on their very, very small worries.  When you think of the billions of galaxies out there, you can take a lot on the chin and go, “meh.”

Today the tile setter’s returning for the final day and then I’ll have a lovely new shower downstairs.  As you know I had a disgusting glass-fronted stall and it was horrible after 15 years of hard use by the kids.

I was hoping to get the whoop de doos out of my driveway from the tree roots this year, but may have to wait until next year for that project.  Anyone who’s driving into this yard knows the pronounced heaving of asphalt due to the many pines.

Those crazy people, the Lynch’s my friends from Vancouver, came through town the other day so I asked them to take their daughter’s wedding gift for me.  I’m going to the wedding next month, but didn’t want to transport the gift, which happens to be a case of wine so is heavy and unwieldy, plus should be kept at a decent temperature.

How was I to know they’d arrive in their tiny pick up truck, and then proceed to put the case in the back in full sun?  I e mailed the kid and said look, you’ll probably have vinegar by the time you open this, but it’ll be a very high-end, gourmet vinegar.

I thought it might be a bit of fun to join an on-line dating site, as it’d give me something else to do.  Who knew scammers abound on these sites?  And can you believe it, I stumbled into two of them right off the bat.

First some man allegedly named Tim Webber sent me long e mails and then asked me to message back and forth on Yahoo, which I stupidly did.  Why I do some of the things I do, I’ll never know, but I think mostly it’s because I’m honest and assume the world operates on similar ethical principles.  Not!

This man (or perhaps a teenaged girl on a lark for all I know) stated he was working in Afghanistan, and I fell for that.  We messaged back and forth, and then one day nothing further was heard from him.  And this from someone calling me “sweetie” and “baby”!

At the same time as he disappeared, another scammer named Patrick Grant e mailed me and pretended he was moving to Kelowna, and get this, I briefly fell for that, too!  Please offer me land on the coast of Florida, as I’ll probably go for that.

You know there must be legitimate people on these web sites, but I only meet fake ones.  The ones who appear real wear baseball caps and like bowling, and so I think on-line dating may be for two groups: losers and scammers.  Why am I on this site??

Dear God.  But you may recall a Bugs Bunny episode in which Yosemite Sam wants the Bunny to dive from a platform into a container of water.  Sam says at one point, “I paid my two bits to see the high divin’ act, and I’m a gonna see the high divin’ act.”

In other words, I paid for three months of torture on this site, and damn it, I want my three months’ worth of scammers and losers.

You should see the effort these people put into it, too.  Patrick Grant would send long, detailed messages about his life, but as he didn’t roof read them carefully, we could see they were cut and pasted and sent to several people!  I say “we” as all e mails were forwarded to no less than 15 people, just for their input and amusement.

I figure if it’s on-line dating, and therefore in writing, then let’s get as much input on these individuals as possible.  It’s been very interesting, as some people are excellent in pointing out errors and clearly see the scam, whereas others are like me, kind of naive.  As I believe in Karma, I just can’t understand why someone would jeopardize their current and next lives with such bullshit.

It’s very strange, this world of internet dating.  Yet we all know people who were able to find someone decent this way.

I had a fab visit with Renate last week, and we went to Osoyoos and met a bunch of women from the Ya Ya Sisterhood for dinner.  Now that’s what I call fun.  Maryjoy, Phyllis, Rhonda, Renate and I had dinner at Walnut Beach Resort, and it was a lovely evening.

So why I’d want to go and wreck a charmed life with a man, I don’t know.  But thank God I tried internet “dating” (none of which materialized) and I can say it’s just not for me.

Today I’m expecting Renate, who you know by now as a member of the Ya Ya Sisterhood.  She and her mom moved to Osoyoos when we were in grade 4.  I still remember the whole town being stood on its head by her beautiful mom Irma, who had a figure like Sophia Loren.

I invited someone I’ve known since grade 1, John Patterson, to come over this afternoon for a visit.  He and Renate became friends and so I know he’s looking forward to seeing her for the first time in a couple of decades.

Then on Monday Renate and I will drive to Osoyoos to have lunch with mom and tour around the town as Renate hasn’t been back for over twenty years.  We’re meeting two more members of the Ya Ya’s, Maryjoy and Rhonda, in the afternoon, down at Maryjoy’s old family home.

At 6:00 we’re off to dinner, and will be met by Phyllis.  So it’ll be another large gathering with only Penny and Alison absent.  It’s great to be able to meet up with these incredible women so often.

I’ve been busying myself with on-line dating, which is going well, other than there are no actual dates.  However I’ve e mailed back and forth with some really nice people, one in particular, and still can’t believe I’m doing such a thing.  I used to find the idea of on-line dating unseemly.

But one evening as Louie and I were on the couch, watching Netflix as we like to do, I wondered if this was the picture of the next thirty years.  I love Louie and all, but I thought perhaps there’s something a bit more fun for me to do in this world.

I’d foolishly thought that one might meet a person doing normal things.  But working from home and attending an all-women’s gym and never leaving the house meant I’d have to hope to meet someone nice in line at the Superstore.  As that didn’t work, I had to bite the bullet and advertise myself on line.

German relatives are due in Canada on August 5th, and will stay with Freddie at the Coast for a while before heading to Osoyoos to stay with mom.  I told everyone I’m having the basement bathroom renovated, and can’t handle two adults and two teenaged boys at this time.

The poor plumber came on Friday and after he tore out the filthy shower stall he said it really needed to come out of there.  I can well imagine, given the amount of leakage over the years, and I’m ga ga with excitement about my plans.

A tile setter’s going to come and do the floor and tile up the sides of the walls.  Then the plumber will return and put in a nice new shower head and faucet, and I’ll get a round shower rod installed and put in a shower curtain.  Adorable!

I got a beautiful brocade fabric sofa and chair at the Kelowna Women’s Shelter Thrift store for $110.  They’re in fantastic condition, like new.  I just don’t understand people who want to get rid of something that’s still perfectly good.   I love them for it, though!

Alison arrived on the Wednesday before my big party, and we spent Thursday morning shopping for the dinner ingredients.  We then proceeded to make dinner for 30 people.  It was a lot of fun, and every once in a while we’d say to each other, “This seems too easy.”  We made a turkey, a couple of roasts, and some steelhead trouts.

On Friday we also made some great sauces for the meat, made the salads, and I made my favourite Green Goddess dressing for the tossed salad.  On Saturday morning we loaded my car and transported all of the food to Osoyoos.

When we arrived, mom had the long tables all set up under the ivy, out on her back deck.  There were 15 chairs on each side, and mom had carefully made place cards for the 30 guests.  It took days as she considered each person, and then decided where they’d optimally be seated.

Freddie and Wendy were already there, and we had lunch together in great spirits.  I have to say I was really excited about my party, as it was comprised of people I consider dear friends.  Petra and Larry were there from Kelowna, and lots of people made the trip from the Lower Mainland, including Margaret.  Bev, my old teacher of the deaf pal, came too.

Almost all of the Ya Ya Sisterhood was there, except for Renate, who happens to be arriving next week.  The husbands all commented on how pleasantly surprised they were to be allowed to the party.  They said they’d never been included in our revelries before and felt honoured.

Because it was Osoyoos in mid-July, it was nice and warm sitting outside, and the dinner began with a lovely toast from my dear brother.  We then began passing around the food, and drinking as much as we could.

I’d said to Alison I wanted to serve a cocktail, as I think if people get a stiff drink at the beginning of a party it elevates the whole event.  We went through some recipe books, and finally settled on a vodka punch but decided not to use the word punch and to call it a Mo cocktail.  A special birthday Mo cocktail, anyone?

We kept tasing the punch as it was being made, and eventually I made Alison dump 1.5 of the giant vodka bottles into the vat, which also included orange, pineapple and grapefruit juice as well as club soda.

We’d mix and taste, and I kept saying but I want them drunk after one glass, so it has to be strong.  However, you want it to taste like juice so they down it quickly, thereby adding to the so-called punch.  It was a fine line, but I believe we achieved it.

Jerralynn had made a beautiful three layer cake, whereby each layer was a different flavour and colour.  It was really lovely and delicious, too with marshmallow icing.

The next morning Jerralynn came over and made Bavarian waffles for those of us staying at mom’s and it was a beautiful breakfast after a fantastic event.  For once I wasn’t hungover, so perhaps that’s what happens as one ages; one really does become wiser.

I wondered what might happen when Nicky left, but I remained calm and didn’t make a fool out of myself.  Denis said he’d drive him to the airport, so I invited Denis for a Canada Day barbecue as Nicky was leaving that day.

I’d made a potato and a tossed salad with a delicious homemade green Goddess dressing I love.  Denis barbecued the steaks, and we ate early because Nicky wanted to be at the airport before 6:00 PM.

When it was time to go, we did that funny sideways body hugging thing, and then off he went to find his fame and fortune in Taiwan.  I asked him to let me know once he’d arrived, and he sent me an e mail right away saying he was there, safe and sound.

Now here’s the wonderful thing.  I don’t miss anyone and I enjoy being alone with my precious pets.  I’m also finding out interesting facts about myself.  For example, I now find myself playing greatest hits of the 70’s and 80’s at quite a high volume.  I eat dinner at 4:00.

On Saturday mom’s holding a gala dinner party for 32 people for my 60th birthday so I’m ga ga with excitement.  Alison’s arriving from Toronto on Wednesday at noon, and we’re going to be making the food so will be cooking for three days.  Fun!

It’ll be very manageable as I made dinner for 24 people for Denis’ 50th birthday, so I know the two of us can do it.  Actually Jerralynn’s making the appies and cake, so it’s a team effort.  My sister in law Twig’s making a Thai rice salad.

I think if we make a turkey, ham, roast and a salmon, then make a variety of salads and have buns, and tons of booze, it should be a fabulous event.  Mom won’t allow paper plates so it’ll be very chi chi as we’re going to have a long table nicely set out on the deck with 16 chairs on each side.

And for once I said to mom I just want to invite my own friends, and those people I feel close to for this event, so I’ll be seeing all manner of people from the past.  There’ll be my old teachers of the deaf pals Gitte and Mark, and Beverly’s coming too.

All the women of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, except Renate, will be there with their husbands, so we can re-live Palm Springs all over again.  Margaret’s coming from Vancouver and my Kelowna pals, Kathy and David, Petra and Larry will be there too.

I usually buy myself something for my birthday, but this year I didn’t get around to it, and I think that’s fine.  I have a feeling something wonderful’s about to happen so I don’t need a trinket or bauble.

I know some people are bummed out about birthdays, but I’m fine with each one of them.  And unlike some women who remain coy about their ages, if someone asks, I scream out I’m about to turn 60.

So now it’s time to clean this house like a crazy person not just for Alison, but Margaret’s coming on Sunday for a few days, too, so I want the place to be half decent.