Mojo’s quietened down over the years, as she’s 12, but Ricky still enjoys barking quite a lot.  Because of his incessant barking, I don’t pay attention to it.  But the other day it went on and on, and I thought I should see what was bothering the little dog.

I looked down the driveway, and there was a huge coyote on one side of my gate, and the tiny dachshund on the other side, barking furiously.  The coyote was just standing there, parallel to the gate and looking down at my dog.  It was so big and healthy-looking at first I thought it was a German sheperd.

When I came out it ran off, and later when I looked out of my office window, I could see it run across the neighbour’s field.  Since then I’ve been completely paranoid as this occurred in the middle of the day, and so at night I now have to go out with the dogs.

Nicky said we seem to be on some type of migratory path.  Bears, raccoons, deer and now coyotes all enjoy my yard.  All I can say as a pet owner is it’s rather disturbing.

Did I mention my mom’s learning how to use Skype?  It’s nice because now she’s able to converse with and see Luke or me whenever the urge hits.  I think both mom and Luke look very nice, but when I see the little box in the corner of myself, I think I look like hell.  I wonder if that’s normal.

I’ve been consulted over the past few months by the owner of a new cracker company here in the Okanagan called Savor-Otti.  It’s savoury biscotti, hence the name.  It’s been wonderful to talk with Margaret Ann about how to start a home based food business.

And of course it makes me mad, because how many times have I said I’m going to write a how-to book on starting a home based food business while knowing nothing?  Perhaps someday I will, but so far, nada.

Instead, I do things like experiment with making chicken jerky for the dogs.  Did you hear how horribly unhealthy those commercially-made chicken jerky treats are?  Some dogs have died as a result of eating them.

Jerralynn said they’re easy to make, so I gave it a whirl.  First of all, you have to buy chicken breasts, skin and de-bone them, and cut them into narrow strips.  I did all that, and then put them into a low oven for 4 hours.  They were fine, but not chewy.

Jerralynn said I didn’t leave them in long enough, so last evening I put in a batch and left them overnight so it was a total of 12 hours.  They seem better, but still not like the very flat, chewy strips I used to buy.  Oh well, better that they’re healthy even if they don’t look like the original.

Last weekend I had tremendous fun because I cleaned out my closets, and amassed two huge bags of clothes and shoes for the Salvation Army.  I have so much stuff and so much more needs to be hauled in here, so room needs to be made.

As you know, in November I’m off to Thailand, so I plan to shop like a Kardashian on Ecstasy.  I’m leaving my suitcase 2/3 empty so I can stock it with Gucci and Prada knock-offs.

Boredom’s the worst thing for the impulsive person.  When bored, I start to look for ways to shake things up, and often tend to overdo it in my zeal to stop the ennui.  And I often don’t even know where I’m headed, other than telling myself I’m open to new ideas.

There I was, talking to a friend of mom and Gerry’s about Thailand, when it occurred to me this friend’s helped his kids make a ton of money in their RRSP’s through stocks.  So I said, Hey Joe, can you please look at my mutual funds and give me your advice?

I think that was about 36 hours ago, and I’ve already been to RBC and back, where he sent me to open a self-directed RRSP account.  This should be interesting.  I can barely fill in a simple form on-line, and now I’ll have to look at stocks and buy and sell them.  I know what you’re thinking, but I haven’t lost my mind.  Really, I haven’t; this will be forced learning, hence growth.

The poor person who helped me fill out the form probably had her misgivings.  She was asking me questions, and filling out the form, which I told her I tried to do at home and couldn’t.  That was Clue #1.  Then later on, she asked which institution holds my mortgage, and I said, “Um gee, I really don’t know!”  Clue #2.

But I have to try this new venture to help me be financially okay in the long run.  Because as you well know, in the short run I need money to buy Canadian-made goods to take to the prospective family in Thailand.  I also need an excessive amount of money for the pets.  Right now Mojo’s at the vet’s having her teeth cleaned, and the estimate provided was $900.

As well, even though Nicky started his job at the end of August, he’s just getting his first paycheque next week.  I’ve been running a tab for that kid, and just for his day to day insanities, he owes me around $4,000!  I can’t wait until he moves out and starts getting bills in the mail.

I know thinking one’s going to strike it rich in the stock market is folly.  However, it’s as much fun to try as many other crazy things.  Such as those new, funky synthetic eye lashes.  I’m going to have some applied for Thailand, so I don’t have to worry about mascara.

Anyway, a new season’s always a good time to try new things.  So besides learning how to run my own RRSP and getting false eye lashes, I’ve been listening to very interesting lectures on a Buddhist site at www.humuh.org.  Check it out, as the lectures are really enlightening.

I was invited to Petra and Larry’s for dinner on Sunday, and as the weather was so nice we sat outside for quite a while.  Petra’s German, and is related to my pal Kathy from the gym, and that’s how I know her.  They had a German cousin visiting from Berlin, so I always get invited to Petra and Larry’s when a bit of Deutsch needs to be thrown around.  It’s always good practice.

Their friend Elaine, who I’ve met several times before, was there, and she’d brought homemade cream puffs.  I’m definitely going to make them, and then I’ll be sure to post the recipe either in a newsletter or on my Facebook page.  Honest to God, they were to die for.  Hurray, another new thing to try.

I never thought I’d ever experience a panic attack, so I was quite surprised when I did.  Actually, they only happened at night, and I had to get right out of bed as my heart was beating rapidly, my hands were shaking and I had a head to toe feeling of dread.  I’m describing this all as though it’s firmly and permanently in the past, as I hope it is.  I’ve experienced four in total and don’t want anymore of them.

God only knows where these unpleasant things originate.  I do know our thoughts directly influence our feelings, so I’ve been giving myself some fairly stern talking-tos.  I ask myself why I’d have something as ignorant as a panic attack, remind myself that’s all it is, and therefore it’s nothing to get worried about, and tell myself to stop it.  So far, it’s worked.

No such luck with the compulsive eating, of course.  I find myself behaving like a sane and rational person until around 7:00 PM.  At that time, a couple of 100 calorie Revels and a couple of bags of Praeventia cookies really hit the spot.  Sadly, the old spot’s growing.

I weighed myself today and decided instead of throwing the scale right out, I’d try to remain calm.  After all, didn’t I say I was going to stop dieting for a while?  I can see that’s folly.  For someone with eating issues, I believe saying one is going to stop dieting is like a newly reformed smoker saying they’re going to light a cigarette and hold it, but not inhale.

But on a happy fashion note, both tunics and peplums are huge this season.  Both are perfect for the stout person who stores most of their fat around their midriff.  Even though you’re probably thinking one or two of the 30 tops I already have might be okay, but you’d be wrong, as there’s not a tunic or a peplum among them.

I Skyped with Jan, Luke’s fiancee in Thailand yesterday.  She’s absolutely adorable, and I love her so much already.  She said it’s the rainy season right now, and as I’ve decided against malaria meds because of the side-effects, I pray it’s over when I arrive so I don’t come home with malaria.

But really, I’ve talked to several people who took malaria pills and they described nausea and hallucinations during dreaming.  Can you see where this is going?  Here I am, with newly developed panic attacks that only occur at night, and then I’m going to hit Thailand and pop malaria meds.  It’s a recipe for disaster if you ask me.

So I said to the rather surprised Travel Clinic doctor I’d have to say no thanks to her recommendation on the malaria pills, and would return for the typhoid shot if I decide to get that.  I mean, for three days in the tiny village, I think all of this is overkill.

I’ll just smear Deet on myself, and put on long sleeved, long panted PJ’s, wear cotton gloves and socks and then cover myself in a mosquito net before bedding down on my mat in the open-sided shack.  I’m very seriously wondering if a few Depends might not be the wise way to deal with my 2-3 trips to the bathroom (ie open field) in the middle of the night.  Maybe we’re coming closer to the source of these new panic attacks after all.

As Alison was coming all the way to Kelowna from Toronto for the weekend, I made sure I laid in a large supply of Okanagan fruits and vegetables.  I stupidly thought the yellow sugar plums would make a great fool (fruit and whipped cream) but they’re quite tasteless, so it wasn’t any good.  The lesson learned was that all fools need to be made with berries or cherries.

We visited Liz in Penticton on Saturday and had lunch at the Hooded Merganser, which is such a beautifully-located restaurant, right on Okanagan Lake.  And I do mean on the lake, as it’s built on stilts over the water!  I had a very nice chicken club, and we washed it all down with a Gehringer Bros. Ehrenfelser.

Here’s my new logic regarding food consumption.  I figure as I’m off to Thailand in two months, and will very likely lose weight while there, it’s pointless to diet before I leave.  I had to pull myself together to get ready for my niece’s wedding and the 40th reunion, and now that those events are over, I’m going to cut myself some slack.

Are you a friend of mine on Facebook?  If not, you should be, as I have pictures on there from time to time.  It would allow you to track the continual expansion and contraction of my waistline.

Tomorrow at 2:30 I’m off to the so-called Travel Clinic to get hosed for a consultation and immunizations that I may or may not need.  However, as I’m going into the rural northern area of Thailand, I figure I may as well not come home with malaria and typhoid fever if I can avoid them.

Nicky started his new job at Telus, and is right back at the old office where he started at the age of 17!  Whereas the last time he worked there he had no idea how sweet his job was, this time he knows he’s fortunate and is trying hard to figure out what to do.  Most of the time he’s home in the early afternoon which makes me think I’d like his job, too.

Then in the midst of the mental and physical preparations for my trip to Thailand, I got a letter in the mail from the Sherriff, which nearly gave me a heart attack.  I always assume I’m guilty of something, but it was just a summons for jury duty.

I love the idea of being on a jury, having seen it portrayed so fascinatingly so many times in movies over the years.  However, it says it’s for a three-week jury trial slated to begin on October 15th.  I leave for Thailand on November 18th, so if the trial runs over I have to tell them I’m outta here.

I used their ‘excuse form’ on-line and explained about my travel plans, and they replied: Nope, excuse denied tell it to the judge on October 15th.  So I hope I can explain to him/her that as excited and happy as I am to finally find out what occurs when a jury hangs out, there’s no power on Earth that can stop me from going to my baby’s wedding.

I was telling Alison about it, and as a she’s a journalist, she could see the potential.  I said if I’m forced to be a juror, and if the trial runs over, then I will be getting my 15 minutes of fame.  I’m one of those unpredictable types of people who can go absolutely berserk at the drop of a hat.  I’m sure it’ll all be fine, and I won’t have to protest naked, like a Doukhobor.

As you may know, my blog hasn’t worked for at least two weeks, so I’m now hoping this is visible (and postable).  In any case, I felt bad as I wanted to let you know how the recent events in my life went.  The first one, a wedding, occurred on the August 25 weekend, and was my niece Julie’s wedding. She’s my brother Freddie’s youngest daughter.

Freddie and Wendy bought a great house on Whonnock Lake in Maple Ridge.  It’s a two-acre property, so the wedding was held on the sprawling lawn with the lovely lake in the background.  I’d driven down with mom;  Nicky and Andre, the German visitor, drove with Luke who showed up at the last minute.  So all of the Schillers were represented at the wedding.

Mom and I left the wedding party at a decent hour, and returned to our room at the Best Western in Maple Ridge.  In the morning I tried to call Luke and Nicky at their motel, but no reply.  Mom and I drove to Freddie’s for brunch on Sunday and finally around noon Nicky and Luke showed up, looking slightly worse for wear, as did Julie and her new husband, Jason.

As it turned out, Nicky, Luke and the couple were the last to leave my brother’s at around 3:00 AM.  They called a cab, and Julie described the scene, as she said they decided they were hungry so made the cab pull into a McDonald’s drive-thru.  Julie said their lab, Rider, was on her lap as they got their food.  It must’ve been quite the scene for the food server.

Luke calls them Bed Burgers, and said the last thing he recalls is the bite of McDonald’s hamburger he ate before “falling asleep.”  I guess passing out would be more apt.  The bride said she insisted on them eating their McDonald’s food in bed, too, so it must be a genetic thing.

Then this past weekend I was at my 40th high school reunion in Oliver.  It was organized by Oliver people, and so of course a lot more Oliver than Osoyoos people showed up.  I felt bad as I thought I should’ve tried harder myself to get the word out.  Next time.  By the 50th we’ll have it all under control.

And now Alison’s coming from Toronto this weekend, and we’re going to visit Liz in Penticton!  So the socializing seems to be continuing.

For some reason, I can’t post my blog in the usual manner, as you now know.  However in the next few days I will have a new wordpress blog .  In the next while the challenge is getting the WordPress blog onto my site and the old posts moved, etc.  Things I know nothing about but hope to pay someone to do it for me, as usual.  So please return in 7 days from today and good things should be happening.  I’m very disappointed, as so much has occurred and today I’m off to my 40th high school reunion so want to be able to tell you about that. Oh well, soon it’ll all be resolved.

I’ve been unable to post this blog today for some unknown reason.  I can only write a few words or get a large note: Unacceptable.  Hmmmm.  I believe it is because I am not actually fully on WordPress and they don’t like it.  But I would love to be on WordPress officially, as get this: Margaret the Marketing Maven was showcased on WordPress and has received thousands of replies to her blog!  I will keep trying but if nothing happens, you’ll at least know why.

Today is Nicky’s 23rd birthday, and he plans to spend it with one of our relatives who just arrived from Germany.  It’s far too convuluted to explain how we’re related, but suffice it to say it all stems back to my gramma’s father, Johannes Pfingsttag and his wife Louise.

When Nicky and I visited our German relatives in 2009 Nicky and Andre met for the first time, and became friends.  Andre arrived in Vancouver on Monday,  so Nicky drove down to pick him up.  They spent that night and the next at Freddie and Wendy’s new house on Whonnock Lake in Maple Ridge.

Today they plan to pack a picnic lunch and hike around the Kettle Valley railway trestles.  It’s so beautiful up there and you get the most amazing views of the entire valley below.  I’m sure any German would love that!

Last week I went to Osoyoos to spend a night as Gerry’s son David, and his grandson Jacob, were visiting from Virginia.  We’re all very proud of David, as he’s an extremely well-known defence attorney in the US.  He’s the lawyer who defended Susan Smith, as he’s an advocate against the death penalty.

While I was there, mom and I took the golf cart out into the orchard as the people who lease it were picking our peaches. This is our signal to move quickly, as then we just take peaches off the top of the filled bins, and don’t need to bother to actually pick them from the trees.  It’s so much quicker and easier that way.

I arrived back in Kelowna laden with peaches, and as Nicky and Andre’ll be going there this weekend, I’d like another shipment of the same brought back.  It’s too bad, but the majority of people in the world haven’t ever eaten a ripe  peach, so they have no idea what they’re missing.

I received a phone call from a nice customer in Ontario who ordered a fruitcake last year to be sent to his daughter.  He said, “Do you remember?  I wanted a special stamp put on it?”  And I did recall that, and said, yes, I remembered a large whale stamp worth $10.00.  He was thrilled I’d remembered that.

Now he happens to be in BC, so is coming by to pick up some fruitcakes while here to save on shipping.  So it’s just a reminder that each and every fruitcake sold has such a large ripple effect, you can never tell what will come of it.

And now, wouldn’t you know it since I decided to stop selling wholesale, Urban Fare is opening a store in Kelowna!  As you may recall, they’ve carried my product at their Yaletown store for years.  And the ad in the paper says they’re looking for locally-made products.

It’s sad, really, as if I was twenty years younger, I could likely do it.  But now as an exhausted 58-year-old, I just looked at the ad and went, “oh well.”  I’m certainly not going to change my mind, as I far prefer the whale-stamp man and his small purchase to months in the kitchen in order to sell wholesale to anonymous buyers.

I hope you’ve been watching some of the Olympics, as they’re such great entertainment.  I know a lot of people pooh pooh the games, but for me there’s nothing as exciting as a closely-fought race, followed by a tear-filled stand on the podium with the national anthem playing.

I sob right along with each and every athlete and their mom in the stands.  I don’t know why, but I find the Olympic games highly dramatic theatre.  Of course I hate the Olympic committee as much as everyone else, but I don’t think you can overstate the feelings of exhilaration, pride and astonishment at the performances of the athletes.

In the longer races, whether running, swimming, or whatever, there is a dude who rings a big old bell when they’re in the final lap.  I don’t have the actual dude with the bell here, but I do hear it ringing in the back of my mind.

And that’s because Nicky got the job!  Yes, he’s going to be starting at the end of this month.  He’ll be trained here for a few weeks, and then, get this: he is being sent to Vancouver!

It’s shocking, but he’s been hired as a Project Manager for Telus!  The money is staggering, and will cause all manner of insane spending, but as I observed with Luke, it does settle down after a few years.

The other day when he was out I went downstairs and lay on his bed.  I looked around at the dreck in his room, and started to plan the redecoration.  The bed’ll look much better in the centre, with night tables on each side.  Of course I need a bunch of art for the walls.

Then when he comes home next, he’ll skip into his room and go, “Wha??” The room will be all pink and floral with fuzzy wuzzy curtains and pillows and so on.  I’ll act surprised, as though I have no idea why he’s confused.  “But darling, this is the guest room now,” I’ll purr solicitously.

It’s what we Boomers must do, and I’m not alone in this quest as you well know.  Alison spent the month of June shopping at Ikea and moving furniture like mad to get her youngest settled outside of his old bedroom.

My friend Beverly cancelled her visit last weekend, and apologized by saying her son has a job in Williams Lake and they wanted to get him launched.  When Boomers say they can’t do something due to needing to launch a kid, trust me, no-one who’s in the know crosses them on that.

We all hold hands and sing kumbaya whenever any of us gets one of our offspring out of their bedrooms.  It’s one of the most serious goals of the Boomer generation.

So now I’m all smug, having launched 100% of my brood.  Alison calls it “Freedom 58” (our ages) and I like that.

If I stand on the scale in a certain way, it appears I may have lost a pound.  If I don’t get a reading I like, I keep moving the scale around the room until it gives me a proper response.  But I really think I might be trending downward right now, and I can thank the looming 40th high school reunion for motivation.

I have 30 days to get rid of this blubber, so the time’s tight.  But there’d be nothing worse than attending this thing just as fat as a pig.  Far better to arrive svelte and act like you’ve done this oh so effortlessly all these past decades.  Now that’s irritating.

And as I said to mom, if you can’t make people angry at a reunion, why go?  But I may be the one seething with anger as I’ll likely be one of the beefiest members of the crowd.  Oh well.

I’ve managed to keep a tight rein on spending these past few weeks, and suddenly the dam burst.  It began quite innocently with a $50 gift certificate for Art Knapps which I’d received from my sister in law, Wendy, for my birthday.  I bought two gorgeous pink Echinacea plants and some other useful stuff.

Then, I realized I hadn’t done my annual birthday gift shopping for myself, so I went to Rosebuds, one of my favourite consignment stores.  I tried on 15 dresses, and wouldn’t you know it, I liked three of them so bought them.

Now heady with the monster being fuelled by purchases, I went to the mall.  The mall!  That’s got to be like the biggest all-night bar to a drunk.  I stumbled around there for awhile, only to end up at the Bay where I bought a gold necklace for my new daughter in law.

But I couldn’t help it, as it was 60% off, and then the sign said take another 25% off, so I went mad briefly, and bought it.  Dizzy, ecstatic, drooling with anticipation, I decided I hadn’t been to Home Sense in a long time.

Once there, I bought all manner of nice soaps and lotions made in Italy and England, as I thought what could be nicer for the female Thai family members than that.  Then when I arrived home I started to pile up their purchases and realized I’ll need two suitcases for sure.

There’s still no word on Nicky’s job so we’re both like cats on a hot tin roof waiting to hear.  The woman he talks to said it will be one to two weeks before they know.  I’m so hopeful he gets that job, you have no idea.

Then it’ll be Girly Spa around here all the time.  Lettuce wraps for dinner.  Toe nails being painted at any old hour.  No tools of any kind in the yard, and anything left exposed will be painted pink.

Hopefully that’ll happen a week or two prior to the reunion so I can do total treatments at home.  You know, hot towels on the face, followed by a mud mask with cucumber slices on the eyes.  The kind of stuff male offspring find really scary.  I have two words for that: buh bye.