2012 was absolutely crammed with events.  It began with Luke’s arrival home from Thailand in May saying he was in love with a Thai woman.  That lead to their engagement in June, then the non-stop planning for the trip after that.

Meanwhile, my brother’s daughter Julie got married, and we attended her lovely wedding in Maple Ridge in August.

During the same month, Nicky was handed a plum job as a project manager at Telus.  I’m still having problems with the amount of work he does versus the gargantuan pay he receives.

My mom, age 87, not only learned how to Skype, but to send and receive e mails.  But you know it’s true, necessity is the mother of invention.  I had said to mom Luke’s bored out on the oil rigs, and you have time, so the two of you need to Skype.

I took two trips this year, first to see my friend Alison in Toronto in late April.  Then there was the surprise trip to Thailand in November.  Both were fabulous.

Two very sad events occurred late in 2012, both very painful.  First, our dear dog Mojo became sick, and then suddenly died.  The poor dog had to suffer at the end and I still feel upset about that part of it.

Worse still, my childhood pal, Liz Graham died on December 22 at the age of 58.  My mom said we met when we were six weeks old, as she recalls driving over to Grahams with me and her best friend Pearl Granger.

Liz and I became best friends in grade one, and remained that way until the end of grade seven.  We were close friends throughout high school and then drifted apart at times over the years.  However, when Liz moved to Pentictom to live with her mom around 2005 we reconnected in a big way.

In 2006 we travelled to Washington, DC to hang out with Alison for a week.  I have so many wonderful memories from that trip.  Soon after, Liz became sick, and she remained so ever since.

So her death wasn’t a surprise, but still it was hard.  I learned so much about living and dying from Liz, and I shall be forever grateful to her for all of those lessons.  No matter how bad she felt, she never complained and remained happy.

I realized that to Liz, every minute she was alive was a good minute.  She was a Buddhist master and didn’t even know it.

Onward!  With positive and loving thoughts, off we go into 2013.  All the best!

After the thrill of witnessing a traditional Thai wedding, it was time to head off to the island of Koh Samui in the Gulf of Thailand for a week of fun.  Tradition dictated Luke and Jan stay in the Bunyung’s house for two nights after the wedding, so Dan and his then girlfriend, Denis and I, flew out of Ubon Ratchathani on Saturday, the day after the wedding.

We landed at the domestic airport in Bangkok, then had to get a cab to the international airport across town.  There we were to board a small plane to the island.  I tried to keep a calm look on my face as thunder, lightning and buckets of rain streamed down.

However, we boarded and took off, and as you can see, no-one died.  The food on the one-hour flight was amazing, and we commented on the bag of peanuts one is thrown on any Canadian flight of that duration.

We took a cab to our dear resort, called the Secret Garden, which is on Big Buddha Beach.  We each had our own bungalows, and they were adorable.  Mine was #4, and like all of them, had a king sized bed, tiny fridge, nice TV and beautifully clean bathroom.

I believe it is $40 a night there.  As well, the restaurant and bar, all open to the elements all the time except for the thatched roof, were excellent, too.  I’ve never tasted such delicious pina coladas and had them nightly.

In the mornings, I’d walk barefoot the 30 feet or so into the restaurant and order coffee and breakfast.  The beach is right there, so one morning we saw a man leading a water buffalo along the shore.  Often fishermen were there, spreading their nets.

After two days, Luke and Jan arrived, and they were staying in bungalow #1, right on the beach.  The staff had made a heart of red rose petals on their bed.  I was really excited for their arrival, as I love them both so much.  Jan took a photo of the heart.

The next day we made some plans of what to do, and Luke decided to rent a small car.  Dan and his former friend went off and rented motorcycles as that’s the sort of thing a lot of Albertans seem to like to do.

I’ll always treasure those memories in that little car, going around the perimeter of the island of Koh Samui, which takes an hour in total. There they drive on the right, and Luke drove, with Denis in the passenger seat, holding the map.

Jan and I sat in the back seat.  She said she often saw Thai girls with their falang (foreign) husbands and parents in a car, and wondered if that would ever happen to her.  We both beamed happily at each other and I squeezed her hand.

One day I stupidly said, “Hey there’s a waterfall I want to see, let’s go there.”  The four of us drove off, me dressed as usual in a summer sheath, sandals and my handbag.

We parked and began to follow a path of strewn rocks, as we were hiking uphill beside a rushing river.  It was the usual 40 degress or so with the humidity.  Jan, dressed as always in a T shirt and jeans, was dashing ahead not a bead of sweat visible.

After about 30 minutes the climb became more treacherous, as it was the tail-end of rainy season, so some areas were filled with water.  We would go ankle deep through some of it.  At other points the rocks were so large I needed my hands and feet, so put the handle of my purse over my head.

At 60 minutes I said I’d better see a waterfall soon. 90 minutes later we came upon the waterfall.  I asked Denis to use my camera to take a picture of me, the colour of a fire hydrant, the entire head of hair wet.

On Koh Samui we also visited a couple of wats (temples) and at one of them there is a mummified monk.  Luke made a donation and a monk who was sitting there put a bracelet on Luke and said some prayers for him.  I wanted to go, but was already tearing up at that, so felt stupid and didn’t.

One thing I forgot to mention in my story of Luke’s wedding, was that right after the ceremony we had strings tied around our wrists by the guests.  They tied them while saying good wishes and prayers.  We then had to keep these on, and I felt thrilled to be running around with mine.  Denis said it gave us street cred.

Indeed, when locals saw them, they knew we were ‘in’ somehow.  Plus we only greeted poeple by the proper “saw waddee ka” while making the wei with the hands, and said thank you in Thai.  We were not going to be culturally obtuse like some of the ignorant people we had to see there on holidays.

I swam in the Gulf of Thailand, and can verify it’s very warm.  I’ve never swum in a warm ocean before, as I don’t consider the water in Hawaii warm.  As you swim, you easily catch giant sand dollars in your hands.

A good bit of time was spent shopping at Chewang Beach.  I used to remember the name by thinking Cha Ching Beach.  You must barter, and then you must leave knowing you’ve paid double what you should have.  But it’s fun, and I got 3 bags, 4 pairs of sandals, 2 pairs of Thai-style pants, etc.

And then suddenly it was time to leave, and I felt sad to say good-bye to Luke and Jan.  I flew back to Bangkok on my own and spent the night at a cheap hotel near the airport.

The next morning I was off, and had the same fortunate experience as the flight in.  I slept for 8 hours!  I simply couldn’t believe it, and arrived in Vancouver feeling good.

Please do try to visit Thailand in your lifetime, and I mean the real country, too, not just the tourist areas.

I was going to write about the rest of my trip to Thailand this week, but life took an unexpected turn.  Our dear little dachshund, Mojo, died in my arms on 12/12/12 at 8:25 AM.  I wanted to write warmly and effusively about Thailand, and tell funny anecdotes about my wonderful trip, but find my mind won’t go there yet.

Mojo was such a worried-looking dog for her entire life, with one blue and one brown eye.  She was a dapple, which means she had white on her coat, as well as the black and tan.  In the dachshund breeding world, white is bad, but to us, she was perfect.

I already had Arnie, but we decided to get a second dog, and Nicky said he wanted it to be his dog.  Nicky was ten years old in the spring of 2000 when he and I drove to Wee Wags Dachsie Kennel just outside the Kelowna Airport.

A litter of mini dachshunds had been born, and they were now three weeks old.  We went upstairs, and the owner had her daughter carry the mom out of the room, as she was angry at us for touching the pups.  We knew wanted a female, and there were three.  One had a white tail tip, so Nicky said he wanted that one.

We visited Mojo again when she was about six weeks old, and at the time the kennel owner said as she was Nicky’s dog, he would be the registered owner.  She asked him what her middle name should be, and he thought briefly and replied, “Little.”

Mojo came home at the age of nine weeks and immediately fell in love with Arnie, who was then five. He couldn’t have cared less about her, because his sole purpose in life was figuring out where I was.  Nonetheless, they became good friends, and went on many adventures together.

Their favourite pursuit was hunting quail, especially the baby quail, in the spring and summer.  They’d be out for an hour or more, routing under the brush, and eating as many baby quail as they possible could.  Some days they’d come in so hot they’d lay on the wood floor, panting, until they’d cooled down.

One thing Mojo hated was being left alone with Arnie and the cats when we all used to go to school and work.  I recall coming home from work one day, and going into my bedroom to change.  When I picked up my jeans, I realized the entire crotch area had been chewed out and eaten by Mojo.

As I went into the living room to inform Nicky what his dog had done, I passed a pile of dog feces on the floor.  As I went to open my mouth to now list the two things the dog had done, I noticed she’d dug the arm of the couch down to the wood!  That was an expensive day.

In fact, the digging went on for quite a while, and I used to say, “that dog’s trying to dig her way to China.”  On several occasions, she went through bedspreads, blankets, sheets and right into the mattress itself with her insane digging.

But her greatest weakness was food, and she was indiscriminate in what she ate.  Just this spring, when the bears raided our garbage and we viewed the video, there was little Mojo, cleaning up the garbage left behind by the bears.  She literally ate anything.

As a result we noticed quite a terrible bloat happening this summer, and the vet said her liver enzymes were very high.  He speculated she could have a disease called Cushing’s, but said without further testing we couldn’t be sure.

I went to Thailand, and the dog though quiet, seemed fine.  I returned home, and all was normal until Sunday, when I saw the same bloating.  She was very uncomfortable, so I took her to the emergency vet.  The vet thought it might be a bad back instead, and gave me pain pills.

On Monday she was okay, but on Tuesday she was very ill all day.  She began vomiting around 5:00 PM and continued all night.  I had her blocked in my room, but couldn’t do anything to help her other than to be there.

By morning she wasn’t able to move, and I called the vet’s office and left a message.  As I was moving her to the car just before 8:30 AM, she began gasping for air.  As I held her in my arms and realized she was dying, I prayed aloud for God to give me the strength to survive this terrible moment.

And then it was over.  I laid her back in her bed, and Nicky came home, saw her, and thought she was asleep.  I told him she’d died, and he was sad, though he didn’t cry.  We were surprised at how sick she must’ve been to die so terribly and so quickly.

Nicky dug her grave that day, near Arnie’s, and Denis came over after work.  He carried Mojo and her bed to the hole and placed her inside.  The three of us said what a good dog Mojo had been, and Denis and Nicky covered her with dirt.

When we walked back to the house, Nicky said, “Thanks for coming to help bury Mojo, dad.”   Denis replied, “Thanks to you two for waiting for me.  Mojo was a good friend to me, too.”

And so, just little Ricky and the two dear cats remain.  Yesterday and today snow is falling, blanketing Mojo’s grave, and it’s a sign that she’s been put to bed.  We have to carry on; it’s what the living must do.

It’s hard to explain how I missed my flight to Thailand.  You’ll recall I’d studied my itinerary the way Mitt Romeny studies the Book of Mormon.  I had the reservation in early July, so had months and months to scrutinize it.  However, when your brain is the size of a pea, and you see 2:10 for a departure, you think PM.  Surprise!  It’s a 24-hour clock, so the plane left at 2:10 AM.

Let’s just say it was an interesting couple of hours for the Cathay Pacific staff.  I was re-booked, and left at 2:10 AM, exactly 24 hours late.  Poor Luke hadn’t gotten the message, so was at the Bangkok airport for three hours, wondering where his idiot mother was.

In any case, I had a great flight, as I slept for a good 10 hours!  I took my pal Alison’s advice, which is to ‘shut down’ while on a plane.  I ate very little, drank nothing, and certainly had no alcohol.  Then I took a melatonin and half a Gravol.  I had ear plugs, eye shades and a neck pillow.

When I came to, the nice Pilipino woman sitting beside me said, “you good sleep!” and I shrugged and smiled apologetically.  She apparently hadn’t been able to sleep much at all.

Once in Bangkok, I was met by Denis and Luke, and we went to the ghastly Watana Mansion.  However for $20 a night one can’t complain as there was air conditioning.  I needed it, as the temperature was in the 30’s C with high humidity.

We only spent the night, and then the next morning we were off on the train to Ubon Ratchathani.  It’s an 8 hour trip, but covers over 700 km, so we saw a lot of the Thai countryside.  Thankfully the train was air conditioned, as I had my suitcase filled with chocolate to protect.

We arrived around 2:00 PM and Jan’s uncle and father came to get us at the train station.  When we got off the train we were smacked in the head by the intense heat.  I believe when taking the humidity index into account it was around 42 degrees C!

In Ubon, we stayed at kind of a dilapidated resort, but beautifully located beside a river.  From there we had a rental car so shuttled back and forth to Jan’s village.  Luke and Jan stayed in the village, but Dan and his girlfriend, Denis and I were at the resort.

Luke love Jan’s village so much, and it’s certainly interesting.  The houses are very basic for the most part, with a few showing signs of economic progress.  Luke had helped with the improvement to the Bunyung’s house, so it now has one tiled room complete with windows and a tiled ceiling.  However, there’s no air conditioning or indoor plumbing.

Because we can’t speak Thai, and they can’t speak English, we mostly just smiled a lot.  Unfortunately, Dan’s girlfriend appeared to have been raised in a barn, as she would look upon the villagers with undisguised disdain!  Can you magine how annoyed I was at that?  Picture Luke, loving his new fam, with a cow none of us knows being such a downer.

The wedding began at 5:30 AM on Friday, November 23.  The monks had picked the date, and the day before, as well as that day, they sat in the Bunyung’s new room chanting beautifully.  I captured some of it on tape as it was so moving and wonderful.  Luke said he felt like crying, and as I cry at TV ads, I really had to pull myself together.

The couple arrived before dawn, looking gorgeous.  Jan wore a traditional heavily-brocaded gold dress with her hair up and pinned with pink carnations.  Luke wore a white two piece suit with a Nehru collar and also had makeup on, which is the tradition.

We all went into the ‘good’ room at the Bunyung’s and knelt as the monks chanted.  The women prepared food, and we took turns going on our knees to put the food and juice boxes into the basket in front of each of the 10 monks.

Then the villagers and all of us went to the end of the street, where we danced to Thai music being blared from a truck brought in for the event.  Luke was at the front with Jan and had an envelope filled with baht.  At one point a log was held to bar his way, and he had to pay them off to get by.

A few yards later some people held a rope, and he had to give them baht to get by them.  Then he and Jan got to the front of the Bunyung’s house.  There, someone had made a pile of palm leaves for him to stand on, while a sister in law washed his feet.

Then the couple entered the room, and we all gathered around.  Mr. Bunyung received the sin sod (dowry) from Luke and put the 30,000 baht on a tray for all to see.  A local man with a book began to read the marriage vows, and at one point a hard boiled egg was stuck into the bride and groom’s mouths.

Once the ceremony ended, the women had a pillow in a hammock, which they swung back and forth madly as one of them made newborn baby crying sounds.  Too funny!  They had a pink mattress in the corner of the room, which Jan and Luke were then allowed to sit on together.

In Thai tradition, there’s no lip to lip kissing, nor any displays of physical affection whatsoever.  When the bride and groom sat on the mattress, they gave each other a Thai kiss, which is like putting your face against the cheek of the other person.  No puckering, though.

By 10:00 AM the whole thing was over, so the clothes were returned to the rental place.  Luke and Jan came back in casual duds, and we all sat around until 5:00 or so, visiting.  The men drink a vile whiskey, pronounced lau cow (both words rhyme).  It’s made from rice, and when Dan took a sip and almost vomited, I said no thanks.

Luke hadn’t slept much the night before the wedding, as at midnight a water buffalo was slaughtered, and he was there for that.  He said he turned away at the moment of the sledge hammer blow, and noticed many there did the same.  Then he said it was butchered on the spot and hunks of meat were given to fellow villagers who were friends.

As a result of witnessing that, Luke said he’s never going to waste meat again.  I can say I’ve never liked wasting food, but it’s true, once you’ve visited people with so little, you feel ashamed if you waste anything at all.

Next week: the rest of my holiday in Thailand.

I think I have everything.  I had to get mom and Gerry’s giant suitcase, which I’ve filled with gifts, and then I have a carry-on as well.  I hate people who come onto planes dragging a suitcase, and now I’m going to be one of them!  But I need it, as I’m only allowed to check in 50 pounds, and can carry on 15, so I’ll have to do that.

My clothes could easily fit into a grocery shopping bag, but I need the suitcases due to all the chocolate, maple syrup, and other made-in-Canada items I’m bringing to the tiny village at the border of Laos.  Can you imagine?  By the time I arrive, I’ll be like Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone, when she makes the trek to Cartagena.

You know, the bus breaks down, she has to walk with one broken heel and a suitcase that weighs a ton and is disgorging much of its contents.  Maybe I’ll find my own Michael Douglas to rescue me?  I’m not going to hold my breath.

I’ve been discussing the running of the house with Nicky for the past several weeks.  Today I wrote things down, so hopefully the pets will still be alive when I get home.  He’s never adjusted the thermostat or loaded the dishwasher, so it’s going to be a great experience for us all.

I bought a few extra copies of Country Woman magazine, and will take one with me to show the fam in Thailand.  They won’t know what the heck it means, but it’s a magazine, and my name’s in it, so that’s really all they need to know.  Needless to say, I’m taking a fruitcake for them as well.

What a traumatic experience it’s been installing an auto reply on my e mail.  I have a ghastly program called Windows Live Mail, and I had no idea of the rigmarole involved.  For example, the instruction sheet is about six pages long, and it involves going into the computer to create a message.

I got to step 2 and felt like throwing the laptop, but fortunately Nicky figured it out, and now I appear to have auto reply.  Or not.  But I’m leaving in two hours, so there’s little I’m able to do at this point other than to chant, and to leave it up to the mystic law.

Imagine all the chanting I’m going to be exposed to over the next two weeks!  I don’t have a lot of time in Bangkok, but hope to see a temple or two there.  I researched Koh Samui, and there are at least 3 wots (temples) worth seeing there.

And then of course there’s the shopping.  One article said Koh Samui has one area of stores that is six kilometres long!  It says you can’t get through that in one week, but I’m sure going to give that my very best try.

Alrighty, then, good bye.  I’m off to meet my new daughter-in-law and family, learn something new, and hopefully return a better person.  Talk to you then!

It’s been so warm I decided it would likely stay that way forever, and then it snowed.  I’ve never dug dahlia bulbs out of snow-covered ground before, so it was quite annoying.  The mud, snow, frozen stalks, and damage to the drip irrigation system due to not being able to see a thing made me mad at myself for procrastinating.

And I did the same with the fruitcake business, so it’s all kind of terrible right now.  I had no idea Country Woman magazine is sold in Canada, so imagine my surprise at new orders.  When I asked where they heard of my company, they said cheerily, “Country Woman.”  One woman added she was sure I was going to get tons of orders.

I really wonder why I spend spring and summer humming around, dreaming of anything but the fruitcakes, and then in the fall I feel sick.  Today at the bulk food store I said to the manager I really think nobody will want my product, and then I’m surprised each time.  Though now that it’s occurred eight years in a row, you’d think I’d plan for it.

Because I pretended I don’t really have a fruitcake business, I didn’t pre-order any glace fruit.  So when I arrived and jauntily requested my usual gigantic boxes of each kind of fruit, they said they were out, and the fruit was on order.  I felt momentarily perplexed, but then thought oh well, I’m off to Thailand in one week, so it’ll be here when I return.

The sad thing is when I return on December 2nd all jet-lagged, and if I have to bake like a lunatic that week, I’ll be mad.  But I’ll have the memory of the trip and the wedding to re-play as I chop pecans and chocolate and line tins with parchment paper.

Another interesting thing I haven’t bothered with is taking inventory.  Hence, when I looked at the number of boxes I have on hand I realized I have to order a few hundred immediately.  I’m also almost out of the bags for vacuum sealing, and they come from Vancouver.  It’s all kind of heart-stopping at this late date, I can assure you.

But then as I was lying in bed the other night, weeping, I thought wait a minute.  I decided I have to totally get a grip on this business, or it’s going to kill me.  When I started I decided to call the company Nuttier than a Fruitcake, because fruitcake was going to be my only product.

Then I don’t know why, I added on the idiotic chocolate bark idea.  And you know, tempering chocolate isn’t my thing.  You have to stand there, holding a thermometer in melted chocolate and it has to be to the exact degree.  I far prefer grabbing a handful of fruitcake dough and plopping it into tins.

So I said to my web designer please remove all vestiges of chocolate bark, because honest to God, I hate making that stuff.  Now I’m back to where I should have remained, which is solely in the fruitcake business. I’m now focusing on increasing web sales, as I just have a tiny amount of product in stores.

But here you have an example of one good thing that came from procrastinating.  Because I hate the bark, and therefore didn’t make any, I had to remove it entirely from my site, or I would’ve been pushed over the edge by orders. Hopefully now I can concentrate on my original goal.

I’ve never had dahlias blooming past Halloween, so the weather’s strange here as well.  Though of course compared to the East Coast, it’s wonderful, but it’s very evident the world’s getting warmer.  Just now I looked out to see a little swarm of tiny flies manically circling and circling in a small ball over the hedge.

But we know how suddenly things can change, and it’s not unusual for it to go to minus 20 here in the Okanagan in mid-November.  That’s about the time I should be boarding my plane for balmy Bangkok for Luke’s wedding.  I’m starting to get excited about meeting my prospective daughter-in-law.  I’ve never been a mother-in-law before.

I have two weeks to get ready for the trip, and that means two weeks to do all of my fruitcake prep for the season!  Once I return on December 3 I don’t think I’ll have the strength to do anything buy ship.

As it turns out, Luke didn’t have yellow fever, and told me the name of what it was, but I quickly forgot it.  In any case, I went to the Travel Clinic, and said, “load me up.”  One of the shots, either typhoid or tetanus, hurt like the dickens, and the next day it felt like my shoulder had been kicked and consequently lamed, by a mule.

This week I not only got the shots, but also travel insurance, had my teeth cleaned, and my hair cut and dyed.  Because I don’t want to do any laundry on the trip I bought some extra underwear.  I believe I’m now almost completely ready for the ordeal before me.  Today I’m on my way to Osoyoos for the rest of my travel gear.

Gerry, at 97 and mom at 87, have ceased being world travellers, so I’m going to use some of their stuff. They have a couple of giant suitcases, as well as neck pillows, adapters for power plugs and pills for terrifying, unexpected diarrhea.  Once I get home with one of the giant suitcases tomorrow, I can start to pack the gifts I have for the fam.

It’s very difficult to know what a rice farmer in a tiny village in the jungle wants or needs.  I’ve been told chocolate is very popular, so went to Costco and stocked up on several boxes.  I got Old Man Bunyung (my age apparently) one of those fancy multi-function tool sets, so he can fix the hut as needed.

You’ll recall my neighbour built a huge house across the road from me, though as I’m on a hill, I always have the advantage of being able to block unpleasant views.  Because instead of looking at trees as I used to, I’ve spent the past several months looking at workmen.  Though I haven’t needed a blind on my dining room window for 22 years, I do now, so I ordered one of those nice cellular ‘top down, bottom up’ kind.

This way I can block out the house, but still see the trees and sky above the blind so it should be acceptable.  You know when you’ve never had window coverings, something like that can be very traumatic.

Luke left for Thailand a little over a week ago, and he phoned to say he’s already contracted Yellow Fever!  It’s not even recommended as an immunization, so go figure how the kid contracted it in a country that’s not supposed to have it.  But he said once his temperature registered 41 degrees C he decided to head for the hospital where he was diagnosed with it.

He’s fine, and the wedding’s still on, so all’s well.  While in the hospital he also got every immunization he should have gotten before he left, but didn’t, and advised me to do the same.  I had smugly reviewed the information provided by the travel clinic and said no thanks.  Just now I phoned them for an appointment and will be there next week to get loaded up with injections.

But instead of feeling daunted, I feel invigorated by the challenges before me.  When I go on a trip I study my itinerary the way Romney studies the Book of Mormon.  I keep reading the departure and arrival times, trying to picture what it’ll be like on the plane, and try to imagine actually sleeping on the plane.

You know how you’re supposed to visualize things to make them happen, so I’m visualizing myself fast asleep, pressed against the window of the plane.  I’ll be landing in Hong Kong at 3:00 AM my time, and will need to stumble toward another gate to catch my flight for Bangkok.  I see myself actually finding the correct gate in my mind.

Another fascinating, though less rigorous experience occurred on Monday when I showed up as summoned for jury selection.  It was really interesting, and I met some very nice people while in the line.  We had to stand outside the courthouse for about an hour, because around 400 people had been called.

By the time we got inside, all the seats were taken, so I had to stand.  Finally at 1:00 we were allowed a break for an hour so I drove home, just so I could sit down.  I changed shoes, and returned, and was able to sit for the remainder of the wait.

Our names had gone into a draw, and one by one, people were called to be interviewed by the lawyers on each side, and then either they were dismissed, or else they stayed, and therefore became a juror.  This process took until 4:30 PM when suddenly the large wave of humanity surged toward the door with jubilation, and we were told juror #12 had been chosen, so we were all dismissed.

I received a complimentary copy of Country Woman magazine because I’m mentioned in their upcoming Dec/Jan issue.   You’ll be able to see it on-line in a month or two.  It’s a very sweet article all about fruitcake, and they have a great recipe I want to try.  I feel like experimenting with some new fruitcakes, just for the fun of it.

I received a nice order from someone who Googled fruitcake and found my site.  She wanted fruitcakes sent to her 102 year old mother in Montreal.  She mentioned she used to order from Gramma Deb’s Fruitcakes, but thought she wasn’t in business anymore.

I went on-line and found Gramma Deb’s, and there’s a sad story.  The site is live, but the note says, “I have not been well so I am not baking this year.”  I pray to God that isn’t me following the Thailand trip!

At least three of my friends have been to Italy this fall.  I was there with my mom when I was 19, and I just hated it.  The reason was I wasn’t accustomed to men stalking me wherever I went, saying “bella bella bella” in my face all the time.  Now I want to return to Italy, because I’d kill to be stalked by men again and also for anyone, anywhere to use the word “bella” in reference to me.

A person (read woman) becomes invisible over the age of 50, and it can be disconcerting.  More upsetting are comments from people I meet and to whom I say I still have a kid living at home with me.  They look at me alarmed, ask the age of the kid, and then respond with something like, “Wow, you must’ve been old when you had your first child.”

Such are the slings and arrows aimed at the primigravida.  It’s a medical term, meaning a mother giving birth for the first time at or over the age of 35.  I actually don’t fit the term, but enjoy it.  I was 32 when Luke was born, and 35 when I had Nicky, but I wear the label proudly nonetheless.

I was an apparition at the annual library book sale yesterday.  It was crammed with people, as always.  I was browsing the Travel books section, and found a book on bowel health while in Asian countries, called Shitting Pretty.  I picked it up, then found it necessary to tell the stranger next to me I needed the book for my imminent trip to Thailand.

Sadly, this man couldn’t give a fig about me, my book, or the trip, so acted like I wasn’t there, and moved away!  Honestly, some people.  But it was a great sale, as I got a New York Times dessert cookbook with over 400 recipes and lots of nice pictures.  Every book was $1 or $2, so hard to go wrong there.

Last week my friend Beverly and I devoted a full day to thrift shopping and I got some wonderful things.  I got a new suede, sheepskin lined jacket for $20 at the Sally Ann.  It’s a beautiful pale beige, and I found a great pair of shoes to go with it at The Village. Joy!

I attended a once-in-a-lifetime event in Penticton last Saturday.  It was a Celebration of Life, with the recipient in attendance!  You know how people always say they’d like to able to attend their own funerals?  Our friend Liz planned her own celebration by picking the photos and music for the slide show, inviting the guests and then welcoming us all with a speech at the beginning.  I’ll never forget it.

And another unusual, though less dramatic event occurred on Monday.  My school pay Maryjoy (one of our “group” from Osoyoos Elementary Junior Secondary School days) had a stopover in Kelowna, so I invited her to join us for dinner.  Luke was coming home from Alberta, on his way to Thailand, so Denis was coming over, and of course Nicky lives here.

When I served dinner, Maryjoy said, “Shouldn’t we grace the food?”  The four of us look at each and stared blankly, kinda like Romney does whenever someone asks him to explain his former pro-choice stance.  I stammered something like, “Please, you go ahead.”  Fortunately, she didn’t think badly of us, we held hands, we prayed, and all was well.  Afterward I had to endure a small tongue-lashing from the heathen brats, but I didn’t care.

You may recall me talking about the joy of being able to work from home.  However, I’m used to being here alone, as everyone else has always had jobs outside the home.  Not anymore, though.

Now that Nicky’s started his job as a contractor to Telus, he works from home most of the time!  Can you imagine?  The joy of working from home has been somewhat mitigated by the presence of someone who hardly ever appears to be ‘working’ at all.

Oh well, it’s the new world order, I suppose.  But as long as we’re all working, I should give a rat’s ass about how or where we do it.  And now both children earn a lot more money than their dear old mom so perhaps the worm’s turned, and finally I’ll be the person with their hands out, begging, “Please sir, may I have some more?”  Cue the orphan from Oliver!

I was in Osoyoos for Thanksgiving, and we had the pleasure of having the dinner prepared by mom’s pal, Jerralynn, the gourmet cook.  Nicky was there, as he wouldn’t have missed it for the world, and as always mom knows only the most interesting people in town.

One of only two females in the Canadian Armed Forces to make the rank of Major General, Lise Mathieu, was one of the guests.  Osoyoos boasts such interesting retirees, and if they’re truly interesting, they end up having dinner with mom and Gerry.

My pal from teacher of the deaf days in Prince George, Beverly, is coming tonight to stay for a couple of days.  Tomorrow we have the entire day set aside for our favourite activity, which is thrift store shopping.  A few days ago I spent $6 for a scarf and a pair of brand new sandals, so that’s the kind of thing I enjoy.

The other day I idly thought of buying a new stove, as mine’s a complete mess after only 15 years, but of hard use.  It has one of those ceramic tops, but it’s cracked in one area, and stained all over the top where the pots sit, so it’s just hideous.  But then, I went no.  Since I’ve committed myself to this new self-directed RSP program, I’m in a total austerity mode.

And God knows, I need to be as I’m also going to need money for Thailand.  Joe Miller, the nice man who’s helping me with my savings fund, has a son who lives in Bangkok.  He’s married to a Thai woman so I’ve been in contact with them.  They said the best thing to do is to get tons of baht in various denominations for the wedding.

Apparently everyone hands everyone else baht in envelopes, and you also give money to the monks who attend the ceremony.  Obviously the last thing I need is a new stove when I have to be lavishing dough around a tiny Thai village.

But I’m buying dates and apricots this weekend, and will prepare the fruit for some Okanagan Harvest Cakes.  Once I’ve made a few cases, I’ll make a few Totally Decadents, and then that’s it.  On my site I removed all stores, except for two in Kelowna, and the rest of the world have to order on-line.  Hopefully sales will be half decent, and then Joe Miller, my money guru, and the Thai village will be happy.