You’ll recall that the vet said the dog was too chubby and I was given a special diet food for both of the dogs.  I’ve been giving it to them for the past week, and they don’t like being on a diet at all.  They used to get their dinner at 5:00, then it was 4:30, then 4:00 and now I can’t feed them any later than 3:30 or my nerves would go.

Mojo starts at 2:30, and as I’m sitting here typing she stands beside me, whining.  It’s so pitiful yet so annoying as the dog’s still really stout and doesn’t look at all like she’s starving.  It kind of reminds me of when the kids were small and whined for nothing, and I almost went insane then, too.

I went to the airport on Friday night at the appointed time to get Nicky from his trip to the Caribbean.  He’d only been gone three weeks, but when I saw him I hardly recognized him.  He was very tanned, his hair was blonde, and he was super thin.  Apparently sleeping and living on a sailboat day and night is a lot of work because he said something always needed fixing.

On Saturday morning I handed Nicky the digital box from Shaw Cable, and it began.  It seemed straight-forward, but nooooo.  By 5:00 PM we concluded the last of four long calls to Shaw, and voila! I now have HBO, movie channels and Deutsche Welle, which is fab.  Now I can work on my German whenever I feel bored.

I received one of those e mails that makes me want to vomit.  A customer said the Okanagan Harvest Cake she’d bought was disappointing because it seemed overdone.  I felt sick.  I replied that I’d bring another over immediately, and did so the next day.

Then the nice woman replied that this one was perfect, as all previous ones had been that she’d bought over the years.  That was good, but I still feel sick about others that were made the same time as that one that are obviously dreck as well.

However, by the next day I had an e mail from a woman who’d ordered for the first time at Christmas, and wanted to order four more Totally Decadent fruitcakes as she said they were so fabulous.  So that was gratifying.

But that’s why I find the artisan food business living hell.  I just don’t know how much longer my nerves are going to be able to take it.  I mentioned it to a nice woman at the gym who suggested I should try to sell it.  But then I get all crazy and territorial thinking about it, so obviously it’s not the right thing to do yet.

Another woman from the gym took the time to come up and tell me she’d tried the chocolate bark for the first time at Christmas and loved it so much she’s sorry she tried it!  I said well look out because at Valentine’s more will be for sale out in the front office of the gym.

In the meantime, I’ll just cast my fate to the wind.  Besides, I have other more pressing concerns.  I have dinner to prepare for a 22 and a half year old who shows no signs whatsoever of leaving his sainted mother’s home.

I finally forced myself to make one of those unpleasant calls you put off because you know it’ll be horrible.  I was sick of the stupid channels I get, so I phoned Shaw and inquired how I might get movies.  It took two calls, a long time on hold each time, and caused quite a bit of confusion.

I explained it to my mom like this.  Let’s say you still have one of those old rotary dial phones.  Then you hear about all this new-fangled stuff your phone can do, so you call Telus.  They start getting excited about all of your different options, but the sad thing is when you try them, none work.  That’s because the Telus person is like the Shaw person I initially had.  They can’t understand what you’re saying to them.

The poor girl I dealt with second finally said, “But how DO you get your channels?”  I said, well I point this remote at the TV and then I click. 
But do you have the Shaw remote?
What Shaw remote?
It all became clear to the girl and she went, “Oh my God.  Okay, step 1, you need our digital box.”

Who knew?  Now I’m going to have HBO and other cool stuff and the kicker is that it’s all for $25/month less!  Why I was scared to make the call, I’ll never know.  Or do I?

On Friday night I have to go to the airport to get Nicky.  He’s been holidaying in the Caribbean since the end of December with his best friend and the friend’s parents.  They have a sailboat, and it’s moored in Grenada, so they’re sailing about down there, having fun I’m sure.

I’ve become quite accustomed to the quiet life without the ubiquitous dozen large males in the basement, hooting and hollering.  However, what can I do when he returns if he refuses to move up north for a job?  I think that’s the place for all young people starting out.

When I got my degree as a teacher of the deaf in 1978 my first job was in Prince George, and it was a great learning experience.  Living in Prince George in those days really proved the adage, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

It’s sad for young teachers, but when I started teaching at King George V Elementary School, Fridays at 4:00 found the majority of the staff at the bar.  New teachers who didn’t go were looked upon as jam tarts.  Nowadays teachers don’t dare to have any fun, ever, even if newly arrived in the reeking ice cave called P.G.   Pity.

I took Ricky to the vet to have his teeth cleaned, which was the usual soaking: $550.  Then the vet’s assistant gave me a bag of special food and said Ricky’s overweight and needs to go on a special diet.  Both Mojo and Ricky are chubby and it’s bad.

But we’re all grossly chubby, and it’s all very bad.  What to do?  In about two days I’m going to be lying on the couch, watching movies and interesting TV, and blocking out all of the negative vibes.

To avoid becoming as weak, shaky and confused as Ozzy Osbourne, I’ve been working on reducing my alcohol intake over the past while.  The body and brain just can’t process as much anymore.  I’m sorry to say, but at my age it’s time to face the fact that I can’t party like it’s 1999 for the remainder of my life.

But here’s something absolutely fantastic that happened as a result.  Now that I drink a very small amount of white wine, I can buy nice bottles of local products.  Last night I had a couple of glasses of a Gehringer riesling that was like a little bit of Heaven.

After 22 years of continuous use, the Beam built-in vacuum packed it in.  The repairman said it appeared to have been here decades prior to that, so it certainly didn’t owe anyone anything.  I now have a lovely new one, but at $700 it should be wearing a faux leopard skin coat or something.

Even as I type this the nice junk removal man is here getting rid of a pile of stuff on the driveway.  I can’t stand having refuse in the yard, though it’s a losing battle.  Most of the detritus on that pile is due to Nicky and his projects.

I don’t know why, but so far every single day of 2012 I’ve felt wild with excitement.  I read that excellent book, The Wealthy Barber Returns, and I’m suddenly all pumped with the idea of saving.  How someone who buys everything second-hand can save even more, I’m not sure.

There’s a show about cheap people on TV, and I enjoy watching it and perhaps will take some lessons from them.  Liz reminded me the other day of how we really were on the cutting edge when we were washing paper towels during lunch hour back in grade three.

Another show I watch from time to time on that same channel involves brides looking for a wedding dress.  The thing I love is that the brides are often close to 400 pounds, and they invariably choose a strapless gown.  I think I would’ve been an excellent, involved spectator at the coliseum in Rome.

Here’s an interesting thing that happened recently.  As my memory’s shot, I’ll quickly write something onto a note pad, so that I’ll remember it later.  I was on my way out this morning, and remembered a couple of things I wanted to do upon my return and jotted them down.

When I got home, I read the first word on the list, “Petersen.”  I spent about two hours wondering what in the name of God in Heaven Petersen meant.  Finally, a eureka moment.  Petersen is the local plastic surgeon with whom I have to make an appointment to see what can be done about this face.

Even though the body can be improved with fitness, and the face can be improved with a scalpel, nothing can help the memory.  It appears even words written onto a notepad no longer work, so that’s an interesting and somewhat alarming development.

But as with all challenging things, we boomers simply have to adjust and roll with the punches.

The fates are begging me to write my book about how I started this stupid business, yet I continue to ignore them.  Over the years, I’ve had a few people contact me and ask me questions about how I started.  I’ve always been willing to help and never ignore or refuse anyone.

Then today I got a nice e mail from Beverly Bruck.  She’s David Bruck’s wife, and he’s Gerry’s son.  Gerry is mom’s significant other.  There is no short cut for me to explain this relationship to you.  She would therefore be my step sister-in-law if on some Polynesian Island built on a complex matrilineal system.

Anyway, she said years ago a friend of hers was casting about for what to do with her life.  As it happened, Beverly had received an article about my business from my mom, and showed it to her friend.  As a result, the friend started an on-line cake business, too!  Hers is called Aunt Bea’s Wine Cakes, based in Virginia.

When I received that e mail, and realized I’d influenced a person’s entire life with my story, I thought this has to be a sign for me to write my memoir.  But I’ve talked of it many times before, yet for some ungodly reason, I won’t do it.  Why? 

I won’t even bother to put “stop procrastinating” on any list of resolutions, as I know I won’t do it.  One thing I’m doing that’s new is giving the dog one glucosamine and one fish oil capsule daily for her arthritis.  I don’t think that counts as a resolution, though.

I had a really nice phone call from an elderly woman who’d bought my fruitcake at the Wine Museum downtown.  She said it was very good, and she wanted me to know how much she’d enjoyed it.  It’s strange, but these calls almost always come on days when I’m mulling over how to sell a fruitcake business.

And these thoughts are crazy, as the business is finally in the black.  I’ve worked out all the kinks.  I have a set of steady customers.  But I think it’s normal to feel sick of a fruitcake business in January.  It’s the same way a farmer feels in the fall, I’m sure.

One thing that happened unnoticed by me was the closure of all the video stores.  At Christmas I thought it’d be nice to rent some movies, but then couldn’t find any of the old stores as they were all gone! I came home defeated, and the kids had to do the usual pirating.

What I’m realizing is if I want to watch newish movies, I’m going to have to change with the times, and as you know, I hate change.  But I’ll have to steel myself and make inquiries at Shaw Cable or Netlfix and see what in the heck a person of my abilities will be able to do in order to watch a new movie.

In the meantime I’ve been to the bargain section of Mosaic Books downtown, and loaded up on memoirs.  I finished two, and will work on the third today. 

Like a farmer, winter is my fallow time, and I intend to rejuvenate myself with a bit of inspirational reading.  Maybe, wonder of wonders, I’ll actually be able to force myself to start to write.

I couldn’t face typing this blog yesterday because I was too bloated to hold my arms out like this.  I’m no better today, but seem to have adapted quickly to Michelin Man arms.  You’re kind of like a robot, and have to turn your entire body to reach things.  The girth of the stomach prevents any normal twisting at the waist.

And why?  Simply because at Christmas I purposely decide to eat as much food as I can.  And I can really pack it away when I put my mind to it.  Because I felt we didn’t have enough sweets with just the cookies and chocolate, I made a chocolate and a lemon mousse as well.

But on Thursday it’s back to the gym and then with any luck, all of the bad food’ll be out of this house and I can return to normal eating.  Sadly, I have one of those fetishes whereby all of the food must be eaten before a diet can begin.

Luke showed up unexpectedly for Christmas, so that was a nice surprise.  He came home on December 21st, so on the 22nd we all went to Osoyoos for a Hanukkah dinner.  Gerry’s son David and family were there from Virginia, and Jerralynn came over to cook a gourmet dinner for everyone.

We had latkes with apple sauce, brisket, beets, and kugel, a Jewish noodle casserole.  For dessert Jerralynn made her lovely cheesecake, so that’s kind of how the bloating began.

By the next day when I drove home, I pretty well figured, what the hell, and just started eating Spitzbuebchen by the handful.  Those are the delicious cookies my gramma made every year, and which I now have to make for several people or they’d feel it wasn’t really Christmas.

Margaret and Brendan arrived on the 24th, and I made a brisket for dinner that night, too.  We all ate like horses, and then opened our gifts.  My sister-in-law Wendy sent me the cutest handmade Barbie dress, and I just love it so much.

Denis and the kids’ friend Felix came for Christmas dinner on the 25th.  After dinner we got into a marathon dice game, which Margaret won, and I came second, so I suppose it was worth our while.  As the men had insisted on playing for money, it wasn’t out fault that she made $100 and I made $40, was it?

Luke left early this morning, and made such a ruckus that I’m sure everyone was awake.  However, they’re all still sleeping, so believe me, I’m not going to be bothering any of them to get up anytime soon.  It’s just me with the cat at my elbow right now, and that’s the way I like it.

A year ago I found it quite easy to make some sensible resolutions for 2011, yet last night I was really struggling to think of some for 2012.  I suppose for starters I could try to cut down on the gluttony a bit.  I don’t know why, but for some reason I’m just wild with excitement about the coming year.  I’ll have to resolve to vibrate on this positive frequency at all times so I’ll attract only fabulous things.

I don’t have an extraordinary amount of fruitcakes on hand, but nonetheless, for once I’d like to sell out.  Then people would learn to order more, and earlier, next year.  This is hard to do, of course, but I was cautiously optimistic about the double-header of promised media: a mention in the gift section of Savour Magazine, and an interview on Shaw Cable.

As it turns out, the winter issue of Savour Magazine doesn’t hit newsstands until tomorrow, December 20th.  Most women have bought their Christmas gifts by now, and few men probably browse Savour, so I can only hope it’ll catch women’s attention for next year.

However, it’s a beautiful-looking magazine that lies for months in hotel rooms around the Okanagan.  So I have to remain optimistic that tourists will browse the winter issue and see my bark and fruitcakes.

I have no idea when the Shaw Cable interview will be out.  They filmed on December 8th, and when they left, I asked if it would be on the next week, and Tamie said it would.  However, now it’s been 11 days and no sign of it.  I was kind of hoping that would drive my final sales.  Sigh.

So I guess you can see why a person would be in a vile mood.  I still have some miscellaneous bits of shopping to do for mom’s guests, which buoys my spirits a bit.  You may recall that I was assigned to get gifts on her behalf, and I’ve been working my way through that.

I find if you shop at the right time, Christmas shopping is a breeze.  The other day I went into Chapters at 8:00 AM, and there were two clerks standing there.  Over the year I had kept book reviews of titles I thought people would like, so had them with me.

I went to one of the clerks, and had him run the title through the computer, and print the little tag that shows where it is in the store.  He then handed it to the other clerk, who ran to get it.  This continued until I had all of my books, then I went to the counter, and paid.  I left in about ten minutes with all of my books bought, not a calorie spent.

I’ve been baking the usual Christmas cookies, which I enjoy immensely.  I hope one of the new recipes I’m trying turns out, because it’s also an old German cookie recipe.  They’re anise cookies, and called Springerle in German.

Aside from that, I managed to write a couple of Christmas letters to my dear relatives in Germany who were so kind to Nicky and me when we were there in 2009.  It’s good for me to practice my German, however painful it may be for them to read it.

I don’t want to be like the Grinch, with only three words to describe him: “Stink, Stank, Stunk,” so am going to get out of this bad mood immediately.  I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, and a very happy time with those you love.

I had the best week ever.  Before Luke left for Alberta, he bought me a laptop and an external hard drive.  I accidentally called it an eternal hard drive, which I like a lot better.  It sounds so much more hopeful.

After that field day, I received an e mail from Tami Williams, the host of Shaw Cable channel 11 here in Kelowna, saying they wanted to film me baking.  She and her nice cameraman, Greg, arrived promptly at 10:00 last Thursday, December 8th. 

They were here for perhaps ten minutes when Tami exclaimed that she loved me so much, and this love fest pretty well continued unabated for the next two hours.  I think what she found particularly wonderful was the fact that she discovered we both suffer from potty mouth.

We were both in hysterics for large parts of the shoot, which hopefully to God will appear funny to the viewer.  At one point I said, “Now for the sticky hell of the fruit” to which Greg said, “Can we please think of a word other than hell?”

All three of us stood there for a few seconds, brainstorming words, but nothing appropriate was found.  I can’t remember what we eventually went with, but I must say I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of fool I’ve made of myself this time.

Tami said they now have a total of about 45 minutes’ worth of footage for the Shaw Cable information channel.  So I’ll be looping with several other stories, each hour, for the week before Christmas.  Don’t laugh, but you’d be amazed at the number of people who watch that, and who’ll race into the stores begging for fruitcake.

And here’s a surprise, Nicky’s one of the people who watches the info channel on Shaw!  I told him Tami was coming, and he actually knew her.  I told Tami, and she was thrilled, and said, “My one fan!” and wrote a note to him with her lipstick on the mirror in his bathroom.  Adorable, or what?

You’ll find this very hard to believe, but in the midst of all the baking and bark-making mayhem, I’ve managed to chip away at Christmas-related matters as well.  On the weekend I made a few batches of cookies, and wrapped gifts.  I packaged the gifts to be mailed or shipped by Greyhound, and off they went this morning.  Hurray!

I bought the tree on the weekend, and got it home in the Honda.  You have no idea the amount of needles I had to vacuum out of that little trunk afterwards.  I’m pretty sure that tree was cut sometime during the summer.  Anyway, what’s left of it is now all nicely decorated.

Due to working day and night like an indentured servant, I’m very happy to report I’ve been able to shed a couple of unsightly pounds of flab.  I need to, as on December 24 I’m going to be like a hungry shark let loose in a tank full of boogie-board riding politicians.

There are now 12 days left, and with any luck my supply of fruitcakes will hold out.  I’m still making bark daily, as several people who just ordered, have re-ordered!  I think there’s something deadly about the sugar-coated almonds in the soft, tempered chocolate, and mixed with the sun-dried cherries.  You see why I need to lose weight, don’t you?

There’s no way to explain why a person goes into entrepreneurship.  Right now, I’m three quarters dead, and people are asking me in earnest, “Is it worth your while?  Do you make any money at it?”  And I have to keep the smile pasted on my face, while my mind searches for a way to answer without appearing insane, or completely stupid.

This is Year #8 of fruitcake-making for the public, and I’ve learned so many things that I really do need to write one of those e books about it all.  You know, How I Made a Few Bucks While Working Like a Fool, or something like that.

But seriously, there are too many wonderful things that happen, and that I wouldn’t give up for anything, even sanity.  Last Thursday after baking like a crazy person all day, I thought I’d better check my e mails, and there was a nice one from Shaw Cable, saying they want to come and film me baking!

So they’ll be here this Thursday at 10:00 AM, and this will be my fifth filming.  CHBC-TV’s filmed me twice, and this will be Shaw Cable’s second time as well.  Though the first time they interviewed me, and there wasn’t any baking involved.  The fifth interview was from an on-line TV station.

Hence I know what to do this time.  First of all, I cleaned the kitchen, and have removed all ugly-looking things, and replaced them with cheery Christmas stuff.  I have the ideal pair of oven mitts, in green and red plaid, and will wear a raspberry-coloured blouse, and a black half-apron.

It’s a scary time, as I know all of the media will hit at the same moment.  Savour Magazine, the Kelowna Capital News and Food and Wine Trails Magazine will have have articles mentioning my products.  Then the Shaw Cable piece will likely hit at the same time, so there may be a sudden spike in orders.

As a result, and due to white-faced panic over the unknown, I spent yesterday packaging the Totally Decadents.  Now I know exactly what I have on hand, and can deliver at a moment’s notice.  However, I just started packaging the Harvests, and can see I’m a bit short of inventory, and may have to bake on the weekend.

Being the egomaniac that I am, I adore the media coverage, but even with all of that looming, I sometimes daydream about the time when I’ll be out of the fruitcake business.  Decembers will be spent browsing stores, baking, sending cards, and generally enjoying the season.

But obviously I’m not ready for that yet, as I just sent a note to Sheryl MacKay, host of the CBC program North by Northwest, in response to her request for listeners’ childhood Christmas memories.

I told her mine was of my gramma baking her cookies each year, and perhaps that’s from where my love of baking stems.  I sent Sheryl a fruitcake, too, so if she mentions it, I’ll have covered almost all media formats possible.  Shameless!

Twice in one week complete strangers have offered to help me in my business, for no pay!  The first kind offer came from a woman who works part time at Okanagan Grocery, the German bakery.  She said she loves my fruitcakes and would love to help me bake. 

The second offer came by phone, and it was from a nice woman who had stumbled upon my site while searching for Christmas cookies.  She began to read my blog, took pity on me, and called me to say she was willing and able to lend a hand as required!

It’s funny, isn’t it, how complete strangers, especially women, run to help when they see it’s needed.  I’m not used to that, as I’m surrounded by useless males.  To whit: the other day I bought several heavy bags of salt for the water softener, and unloaded them into the carport and asked Nicky to carry them downstairs for me.

Needless to say, they’ve been there ever since, with Nicky coming and going, whistling a happy tune as he goes by them.  He kicks over his beer and Jaegermeister empties, also in the carport, and comes into the house, all nice and hungry from the gym.

Luke surprised me by arriving home on Friday morning.  He said he came home now because he might not get Christmas off, which is totally shocking.  I told him he simply has to try, but he said as a single guy, he can’t really justify it.  I said, “But tell them about your poor, sainted mother, for God’s sake….”

Last night he and Nicky ran upstairs holding Luke’s laptop, and announced they were going to make cinnamon buns.  I looked for yeast, but must’ve thrown out the last of it due to age, and so they had to abandon the idea.  Luke said, “What kind of artisan baker doesn’t have yeast in the house?”

I said, “Look, here’s egg nog,” and diverted them with that.  This morning when I went downstairs I saw the remnants of their night.  There was the empty egg nog container, a few mini marshmallows sprinkled over the floor, cans of Red Bull with a few dregs in the bottom of each, and an empty tin of those finger-shaped biscuits coated in chocolate.

But besides being masterful junk food imbibers, it turned out Luke was tremendously helpful to his old mother.  As you know, I’ve practically had a nervous breakdown over my vacuum-sealing machine, which is now fixed.  However, I didn’t like the way it seals, and the repair place had no clue how to fix that.

Luke took three minutes, re-jigged the length of the vacuum time, and the machine’s now sealing beautifully, so at least he has some very marketable skills when it comes to me and my business.

Now if only I could get either of them to work for more than five minutes at a time I wouldn’t have to rely on the kindness of strangers.

As you know, I’m a regular gym attendee, so am in fairly decent shape, even though large in girth.  So imagine my surprise at hurting myself doing simple stretching at the end of the Tuesday morning class.  By Wednesday I couldn’t life my left arm, and my left shoulder felt broken.

However, that was just too bad for me, as it’s my High Season, so I had to continue making fruitcake and bark.  On Friday morning I was vacuum-sealing away, when suddenly the vacuum sealer died.  I turned it off, and back on again, as we all know this is the way one repairs computers, so I thought maybe it works for other machines as well.

But the machine had totally and completely seized, and in that moment, I knew I had no-one to blame but myself.  The red oil change light’s been blinking for months, but when I see things like that, I just think they’ll get better on their own, like my shoulder, and ignore them.

As the machine weighs 80 pounds, Nicky had to put it in the car for me, and the guy at the kitchen appliance repair place had to unload it.  When I confessed about my slothful behaviour, he said if the pump is filled with ‘gunk’ and if it has seized, a new one is $1,000!

Can you imagine how furious I was at myself when I drove away from there?  To keep my mind off it, I’ve just spent the entire weekend making bark, as I can’t face fruitcake-production without my vacuum-sealer.  I currently have several Tupperware tubs full of fruitcakes waiting to be sealed.

And can you believe, my shoulder did get better on its own, so you can see how my philosophy has both good and bad applications.  I guess for people with muscle-ache, it’s good, and for machines with red, blinking warning lights, it’s bad.

Whenever I send out my monthly newsletter, I get orders, and I did again the other day.  However, some of them are for Okanagan Fruit and Rum bars, which I have yet to make.  So my nerves are kind of bad, with five weeks to go until Christmas, and still producing stuff, with one of my major machines down.

Then Alison phoned to say, “It says teat on your website!”  Although Steve the web designer is absolutely adorable, whenever he writes stuff on his own, I have to e mail him and say, “Look.”  This time it says teat instead of treat, and special is misspelled, but the intent is very nice.

Remember when I had just the Totally Decadent Fruitcake, and so people naturally only bought it?  Then I added Okanagan Harvest Cake, and people ordered one of each.  Then I added the bars, and now the bark, and so my orders are getting bigger and bigger.

I always said I will never, ever make cookies, but now I’m thinking, hey, why not?  I want on-line sales, and once people trust you, they just add on whatever you make, so maybe that’s something to ponder for 2012.  For now I just have to weep over my inability to believe that a red, blinking light usually spells trouble.