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.

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 downwards right now, and I can thank the looming 40^th 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 with envy 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 to Art Knapps which I’d received from Wendy for my birthday.  I bought two gorgeous hot 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 nice 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 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 this 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 cucumber slices. – the kind of stuff that male offspring find really scary.  I have two words for that: buh bye,

I made so much jam I ran out of the jars I’d been storing all year, and had to buy a couple of cases at the Superstore.  I had about 40 pounds of apricots, so that’s a lotta cot jam, I can assure you .  However, it’ll all be eaten because it’s one of those things people expect when they come here.

You know when you go someplace where you’ve always eaten a certain, special thing, and then when you next arrive, they don’t serve it?  It causes too much trauma, so I think it’s better to make masses of jam.  I went through over 10 pounds of sugar in the process.

You’ll recall I was in some shock in June to find out that not only was Luke getting married, but it’d be in Thailand, and that I’d be in attendance, too.  Further shocks followed as the decision was made the entire family would go, and somehow cope with togetherness.

Today I’m sitting here stiff with anticipation over Nicky and the change about to occur in his life, and mine, too.  He was interviewed for some type of project management job for Telus in Vancouver, and though I hate to say it in case it doesn’t pan out, it looks quite promising.

This would mean after 26 short years of parenting I’d be a free agent once again.  It’s almost too much for a person to fathom.  I suppose prisoners freed after a long incarceration would understand my feelings the best right now.

And even if he doesn’t get this job, I can see it’s set his mind in motion for jobs with a bit of challenge.  He’s the sort of person who, even when small, we would beg to use his mouth for good instead of evil.  I had predicted he’d be a politician with that thing, and it may still occur.

I’m going to Osoyoos on Friday, because the East Indians who rent mom’s orchard are having the grand opening of their winery, Gold Hills.  My nieces Sunny and Julie will also be there because it’s Julie’s stagette weekend before her wedding.

Unfortunately, I’ll be there with a big fat stomach due to the stress of prepping Nicky for this damned interview.  You have no idea the abuse I take from that kid to get him ready for something like that.

Last night after he explained to me for the umpteenth time why he’s not going to study for an interview, I decided eating 3 bags of cookies was the best way of coping with my feelings.  He’s got the BA in psychology, not me.

My birthday was on Friday the 13th, and wouldn’t you know it, I woke up with the worst bursitis in my left shoulder.  I was in agony all day, and even cancelled my birthday lunch with Kathy.  I told her there was no point if I was just going to be sitting there grimacing.

It was still horrible on Saturday.  Margaret was here from Vancouver, so we all drove to Osoyoos for mom’s annual party for me.  Luckily, I didn’t have to drive going or coming, so that was nice.  But nonetheless I arrived white-faced from pain.

Mom immediately called the retired doctor who was one of the guests and left him a message to bring a shot for pain!  Then mom said surely Martha the chiropractor, another guest, would be able to help too.

When Martha arrived and saw me with my arm in the sling, she said, “Get on the bed.”  She then did some adjustments that made me see little stars going round and round my head.  Later on she did another, and she really did get rid of a lot of the pain and improved my range of motion.

Undaunted, I was still able to eat a lobster, accompanied by salad and corn on the cob.  Gerry and mom had 30 lobsters flown in from Nova Scotia, as they’d done three years earlier.  There were 23 guests and everyone had a great time.

As predicted, the lobsters were done completely incorrectly for Gerry Bruck.  That was because Jerralynn was sick, and she’s the head chef.  So the town mayor, Stu Wells, and my brother Freddie, who’s his best friend, took over lobster-cooking duties.  This portended disaster right from the start.

As it likes to be in mid-July in Osoyoos, it was 40 degrees Celsius in the sun.  A large propane-fuelled two-burner stove was set up and two big pots of water placed on top.  My sister-in-law Wendy said she walked by as they were filling the pots from the hose, thought to suggest maybe starting with hot tap water, but said nothing.

We all sat with bibs for a long, long time, and then the water finally decided to boil.  The lobsters were taken out of their Styrofoam box and placed into the water.  They were timed, and removed at intervals.

Stu and Freddie got Nicky to help them, and the three of them were bathed in sweat, due to the sun and the steam. Just as the crowd was beginning to get restless, the lobsters were served with lashings of melted butter.  Everyone thought they were good, but Gerry didn’t.

He’s very particular about the way a lobster’s cooked and served, and even at 97 his standards haven’t come down one inch.  I said to him the next day, perhaps lobsters for 6 would be more manageable, and he agreed.

So another birthday’s come and gone, and today the pain of the shoulder is almost a distance memory.  Just in time to make dozens and dozens of jars of apricot jam in preparation for the long winter.

Last Sunday was Canada Day and I was invited over to Petra and Larry’s for a barbecue.  I drove to their place with Kathy and David, and it was a very enjoyable evening.  We left for home right in time to see the fireworks as we crossed the bridge into Kelowna.

This week I received a call from a nice woman in Alberta who said she wanted a fruitcake for her in-law’s wedding anniversary.  She said they had had a fruitcake at their wedding, and also mentioned there was a horn of plenty.

And being the lunatic I am, I printed a couple of pictures of horns of plenty, and then coloured them nicely.  I cut them out, and put one inside an anniversary card and one on the outside of the envelope.

Then I took a Totally Decadent Fruitcake and the card, and put them inside pretty clear cellophane and wrapped it with a wired silk ribbon.  It looked very nice, and I like to imagine the happiness of the couple at their kids’ thoughtfulness when they open it.

And since I was headed north on Highway 97 anyway, I said I’d drop it off at Sparkling Hills Resort, just outside Vernon, where they’ll be staying.  What a great drive and view from up there!  If you’re ever near there, you should drive up and have a look as it’s quite the place.

On the drive CBC’s Mark Forsythe was interviewing some expert in climate change.  With the drought and heat in the American mid-west and the deluge of rain in England, it may finally be dawning on humans that we need to stop consuming so damned much.

Which is why, of course, I’m totally smug about buying things second-hand.  You leave a much smaller footprint if you buy something someone else no longer wants.  And really, how much damage can be done to most items?

The other day I was browsing in the Mennonite Thrift Store and I found a nice Rand McNally Atlas for $2.00.  It was printed in 1986 and was still in good shape.  The original price was $39.95 which was a princely sum back then.

But I can have it in 2012 for a fraction of the cost, plus a new atlas doesn’t need to be produced for me, and this one didn’t end up our mountainous landfills. Surely to God we can all find some items to buy used, even those of you who need to burn your money to get rid of it.

And then that kind of thing makes up for one fruitcake being delivered to Sparkling Hills Resort by this intrepid fruitcake monger.  It’s my own version of carbon off-sets.  Drive a car, buy a used coffee table, atlas etc.

I try to do the same thing with the gym, but of course I’m somewhat less successful with the conversion.  Exercise for one hour, eat 4,000 calories.  But I was never good at math, as you well know.

The monk is conspiring against me and my fruitcake business.  Luke’s wedding date in Thailand’s been chosen, and it’s November 23!  I’ll leave November 18th and return on December 2nd, so that makes for an interesting gap in the seasonal business.

I imagine the Country Woman magazine issue mentioning my business likely hits newsstands around mid-November, so all of this is so interesting!

And you won’t believe this part of it: Denis and Nicky are going, too.  Yes, the whole family’s off to Thailand.  Now I have to find a dog/cat sitter who might also be able to handle some of the fruitcake inquiries.  Surely such a person exists.

But as we well know, worry is futile, so I’ll leave all of the details to the fates.  Right now I have far more immediate worries, such as why I won’t do something about this ring of fat around my middle.  If I’d just stop chowing down on bad carbs, I’d be fine.

Fortunately, I’m on an austerity program as I have to save for Thailand.  This means I don’t have to suffer the indignities of the consignment stores’ dressing room mirrors.  The last thing I need to do is shop for clothes, especially when larger than Bev Oda.

But hold it: I do have one thing to buy, and that’s a nice pink dress for the wedding.  I asked Jan (Supawan) what colours are good luck, and she said pink or white.  As pink’s my favourite colour, I’m taking this as another good omen.

As you’ll recall I insisted to Luke I have to fly Cathay Pacific, and now Luke, Nicky and Denis are all flying China Air.  However, because of their presence on the trip, and because I’m saddled with them, the rest of the trip will be done their way, IE  cheap.

We’re staying at a place in Bangkok that’s $31 a night.  Then we’ll be staying for free in the bride’s village, and then we’re going to a resort on the island of Ko Samui in the Gulf of Thailand.  I think that’ $50/night!  But it’s true, why spend a bunch of money if you’re in a lovely setting.  I’ll be snorkelling like a crazy person.

Today I talked to my prospective daughter-in-law on Skype, and she’s a lovely girl.  At first, I couldn’t understand one single word she was saying, but after a few minutes my ear became acclimatized and then it was okay.  Hard, but okay.

She said she doesn’t drive and is too scared to, and I said well when you live here, you can’t walk everywhere because it’s too far.  It’s always so interesting to watch a new Canadian or visitor as they look at the map, see where they are, and then go, wow, this really IS a big country!

So it was a special Canada Day for me today as I spoke to someone who could only dream of being a Canadian a short while ago, and now it’s going to happen.  Jan was glad to learn about Canada Day when I told her about it.

And that’s just the first of a lifetime of conversations I expect to have with this young woman from so far away who’s going to marry my son.  But imagine the joy of tutoring a newcomer in English and turning out a primo speaker:  The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain!