I’ve just spent three solid days searching the internet for a reasonably priced condo in Kauai.  If there really is a recession going on somewhere, it certainly hasn’t hit Kauai.  Most condos are listed for insane amounts of money per night, and they’re booked!  So I was almost going to pony up $329/night when fortunately I had the brains to use my secret weapon – the women at the gym.

Once again, by telling them about my situation, one of them brilliantly mentioned a site called Vacation Rental Owners.  I e mailed a bunch of people, and had offers of $139, $149 and $171/night within a few minutes.  My travel agent nearly had me convinced that there was nothing for less than $300/night.  Maybe I should change careers again.

Not that I have time to be surfing the net for condos in Hawaii.  I am now getting daily orders by the case, and it’s hard to keep up.  I can’t believe that I used to be baking while doing this, as it’s simply not possible.  All I can do is fill orders, as it takes an awfully long time to package each and every one of them.

I had two columnists write about the fruitcakes in the same issue of the Capital News this week!  It happened by accident, in that I thought Glenna Turnbull wrote for the Daily Courier.  So, I begged both Maxine Dehart and Glenna to write about my fruitcakes, and they both did.  It was good coverage in that both wrote totally different articles, and funnily enough some people only read one or the other column, so this way I covered a lot of ground.

Sure enough, a couple of stores have re-ordered, so fruitcakes are having their little bags packed and are being sent out into the wide world with a wave and a tear.  When I was mailing them the clerk at the post office told me that her boyfriend ate an entire Totally Decadent Fruitcake in one night.  So, she’s ordered two more, one of which she said he’ll get in his stocking, and the other she’s decided to eat on her own.

I was thrilled with the December issue of Martha Stewart.  Some issues don’t give me any inspiration, but this one was great.  I raced straight to Value Village and bought a piece of Christmas-themed cloth.  I’m going to make various sized drawstring bags out of them, and use them instead of paper wrap for strangely-shaped packages.  Then, they can be re-used.  Brilliant!

I often try to use restraint on myself regarding shopping, as you well know.  However, I have had the same Jones black and white hounds tooth check short coat for four seasons, and just couldn’t face another winter with it.  Winners had nothing, but wouldn’t you know it, The Bay had a special buy on Jones coats, so I replaced a Jones with a Jones!  Now I have a very basic black knee-length coat with a faux fur black collar.  Much less irritating than a hounds tooth check, that’s for sure.

I’m here, just madder than a wet hen, that’s all.  I just spent two days at Prospera Place for the annual craft fair, and have sworn never to do that again.  I’m not sure what triggers people’s out-sized appetites at these events, but I know that we went through at least 30 fruitcakes in two days.  I had samples of each out, and people were wolfing them down as though they were dachshunds who hadn’t eaten in days.

Then, mouths full, they would ask if the product was in any of the stores.  When I told them the names of the stores, they would say, “Great.  I’ll get one closer to Christmas.”  Hence, I was competing with myself in the stores.  Marilyn and I were hoping to have someone complain about the price as she and I have both been itching for a reason to punch someone’s lights out.

The other morning at around 7:30 I was making a sandwich for Nicky, while he made his coffee and Denis fooled around making his own breakfast.  Just having these buffoons that close to me at that hour of the morning made my blood boil.  Seeing their sloppy mannerisms as they spilled sugar and burned toast made me understand family violence.  However, I said nothing and got away from there as fast as I could.

When I mentioned this to Marilyn the other day, she concurred that she has recently been about as close to homicide as a person can get.  I believe we have discovered the root of the problem, though, and I think it’s called “burn-out.”  Yes, even Amazons get the blues.  So, we are going to wing our way to Kauai at the end of January and spend ten days lazing about on a beach.  Hopefully we will return all sweetness and light.

In the meantime, however, I have to package fruitcakes with the speed of a Chinese manufacturing plant worker.  I had a great day of packaging on November 4th, as I could watch the American election all day long.  It helped me not notice that I was ready to start throwing the fruitcakes.  By evening a dozen cases were done, and I was right there alongside Oprah, crying with exhilaration and optimism for the future.

And that’s how I should be feeling right now about the fruitcake business, too.  I now have steady on-line orders, and so I know more converts are coming my way.  We sent a ton of people to the local stores, so they will hopefully be re-ordering shortly.  Now I just need the cuticles and strength to package over 3,000 fruitcakes.

I guess you’re wondering why anyone in their right mind would package at this late date.  It has caused me some serious thought as well.  However, I’m one of those people who thinks everything takes ‘a few minutes’ then ten hours later am quite surprised.  Oh well.  The only fall-out to date appears to be a serious case of the crankies.

I know this is just going to make everyone really mad, but I have to tell you anyway.  I’ve lost eight pounds in the eight weeks I’ve been at Weight Watchers!  And this despite eating at least four 500 gram containers of creamed honey and I don’t know how many dozen loaves of bread.  For me the secret appears to have been in alleviating the insane amounts of fat that I used to power down.

You know how we always read articles that say people think if they lose weight they’ll finally be truly happy? The articles allege that true happiness lies within, and losing weight or winning money is not going to make us happy.  However, now that I bought a pair of size 10 Lee jeans at Wal Mart, I beg to differ.  I’m now happier than I’ve been in a very long time.

Out of the blue I received a phone call from a woman named Sharon from an American magazine called Country Woman.  She asked if I would consent to being featured in their ’09 Christmas issue, and I said of course.  I’m not sure what American exposure is going to do for me, as I don’t have an export license, but what the heck.  Maybe this will be the prompt I need to look into that.

It’s nice getting calls from customers, who are like, “Are you…. I mean, is this…. Nuttier than a Fruitcake?”  They’re kind of shy and scared to ask such a loaded question.  My whole-hearted response is always, “Yes!  This is nuttier than a fruitcake.”  May as well lay it right on the line, I figure.

That dear 88-year-old gentleman from Nova Scotia who ordered two fruitcakes last year ordered again this year.  He had e mailed me “In all my 88 years I have never had a better fruitcake than yours” so of course he remains one of my favourite customers.

However, even though these calls and e mail orders are nice, I’m now in that panicked mode where I desperately need the media.  So in an inspired moment I sent an e mail to Phil Johnson, the host of a local AM radio talk show.  He phoned back 15 minutes later, and said, “I’ll interview you on-air tomorrow morning at 7:20!” We did that interview, and it was great, so yesterday I went downtown to thank him with a couple of fruitcakes.

As it turns out, Phil plans to come out to my very kitchen in the next while to do a more in-depth interview!  While fantastic, of course my heart is filled with dread as I picture the vicious barking and attacking by the weiner dogs.  I guess they come by it honestly, as one of our favourite sayings around here is “Release the hounds!” like from those old melodramas.

You know how some dogs hate the sound of a doorbell?  Ours hate hearing the word “Hi” and it causes them to hurtle themselves to the front door, barking.  So of course as soon as I said “Hi Phil” the listeners could hear a wild cacophony of barking.  I had to do the old, “heh, heh, heh, sorry about that” and just prayed there wouldn’t be another opportunity for them to act like idiots.  I’m sure that’ll be coming soon enough.

As much as I love our three dogs, sometimes I feel like beating them to death.  The other day I came home for a quick lunch, and as I planned to go out again, I just put my shoes under a chair in the kitchen.  Upon putting them on I was filled with anger as I saw that Ricky had chewed off the back of one of them!  And the dog only goes for leather, too.  He will not chew a cheap shoe.

Arnie, because he’s thirteen and a half years old and blind, is also extremely irritating.  I know he can’t help it, so don’t bother berating me for being a hard-hearted dog owner.  But honest to God, his eye-rubbing, snuffling, panting and general incessant turning at 5:30 AM is going to lead to no good.  Yet it seemed like such a good idea to put a cute six-week-old puppy into bed thirteen and a half years ago.

As well as baking and packaging, I’ve continued my marketing campaign.  The Burnaby Buy-Low is now going to carry the Totally Decadents.  Nesters in Kelowna is going to carry both kinds.  So, although slow, store by store I’m making believers out of skeptics.

I also had a nice order from a marketing firm in Calgary.  They ordered 100 Totally Decadents to give as gifts.  I had to ship these post-haste as they wanted the first 25 by Wednesday.  Fortunately, I have shipping pretty well down to a science and am no longer stymied by stuff like that.

However, I’m still completely stymied by any kind of proper record-keeping system.  So far, it has consisted of a free Re/Max Calendar.  On a given date, I will write, “Mail to Dufflet Pastries” or whatever.  That’s my ‘bring forward’ system.  Also, some people ordered but don’t want to receive the product until closer to Christmas.  So, I employ my same sophisticated system for that.

Regarding sales, I have a spiral-bound notebook.  The pages are headed up with words such as date, amount ordered, company name, etc.  As orders come in, I dutifullly note the invoice number and later whether or not payment has been received.  As you can imagine, there is the odd glitch, and it’s always associated with the grey matter of the idiot entering the info.

Highway 97 is closed between Peachland and Summerland due to a large construction project that has apparently rendered the highway unsafe.  That means there’s no way for me or my product to go south anytime soon.  I’m hoping that doesn’t have some sort of deleterious effect on the business.

There are always so many unexpected barriers on the road to success, whether it’s having your sleep ruined by a dog, or your deliveries ruined by a highway project.  The best solution is to just ignore all of it, and continue as though you really did know what you were doing.

I think I know why the bulk of people under 30 didn’t bother to vote.  Remember Goofy singing, “Oh, the world owes me a livin’. Doodle doodle doodle doodle do.” It’s this same amusing attitude that today’s youth display towards things like work.  Nicky can barely force himself to stay at work for 8 hours, one day a week.  And this for the princely sum of $24/hour to sit at a computer.

Marilyn works part time at the curling rink, and described the new kid they hired.  She said he already told her that he can’t work Sundays, Monday or Tuesday nights.  She asked him if he was working elsewhere as well, or in school, and he said, “No.”  I guess he just has prior engagements on those days.

I told her I want to go and apply for a job, and then at the interview say, “However, I go to fitness daily at 9:00, so can’t start until 10:30 and I need to be home by 4:00 so I can watch Oprah.  Weekends are out entirely as are evenings.”

I guess because I was paid 25 cents an hour to baby sit, which meant watching kids as well as doing dishes or whatever other chores were left for me to do, I have become impatient with the spoiled young.  On the weekend I dropped fruitcakes off at a store with a deli/bakery.  I said to the two young girls there, “These were ordered by the manager.  There’s an invoice and promo materials inside.”  To which one of them said, “This isn’t our department.”

I can thank mom’s rigorous training at the fruit stand for my ability to work like a mule and behave civilly to others.  We were taught basic etiquette towards customers, such as standing up when they came in, as well as greeting them.  Nowadays, the heavily-pierced and tattooed clerks at the till are too busy re-hashing the previous evening’s party for any of that fluff.

But as my mom, as well as yours, has pointed out to us hundreds of times, these brats are of our own making.  Mom and her friend Pearl were always beside themselves with the idea that kids would be asked something like, “Do you want Cheerios or toast for breakfast?”  In their day there was none of that.  Breakfast was served, and you ate it.  Choosing wasn’t allowed.

However, we were too busy feeling terrible about what we’d discovered to be true.  With both parents working full time outside the home child, raising kids is a horrible amount of work.  And by placating the little so and so’s we found that sometimes a moment or two of peace could be bought.  A bowl of sugar-coated cereal and a Bugs Bunny video often bought an extra bit of blessed sleep.  And really, how were we to know that by buying every Fisher-Price toy, Nintendo, Ninja Turtle sewer, pedal car and Wii that it was going to lead to all of this?

We usually go to my mom’s for Thanksgiving, and we did so again this year.  As always, Nicky is particularly keen on the ritual whereby each person takes a turn telling what they’re grateful for.  After everyone’s usual maudlin pap about family and the great country in which we live, when it was my turn, I said, “I’m grateful for my own chutzpah.”  And it’s true, as it’s been a whirlwind of a week.

First of all Mercury is still retrograde, which should have been my first clue.  When I mentioned this to Denis, he asked what that actually meant.  And this from someone who reads Scientific American!  I said, “Well, it’s when Mercury turns and faces, um, or it opposes Earth, and then, um…..” Anyway, I realized that this is all too complex for Denis so I just began listing the frustrations I’d encountered.

I’d been e mailing the Cookbook Company in Calgary, and hadn’t received a reply, so I phoned.  It turned out the person I’d been trying to reach was off on a maternity leave!  I told the person on the phone that by this time last year they’d ordered.  However, the person said they were currently heavily stocked with other product and would call me when they were ready.  I tried ever so gently to explain that Calgary customers had already been e mailing me, but to no avail.

As I’d received no reply to e mails I’d sent to Quality Greens in Kelowna, I went in.  There’s a new manager there, and he told me to call Leslie or Lisa, as they had apparently not received my e mails.  I did that, and was told that they’d perhaps start ordering mid-November.  I felt apoplectic as I have local customers phoning me and asking when the fruitcakes will appear in local stores.

G and H Foods in Westbank is a good customer, so a couple of weeks ago I’d e mailed the manager.  No reply.  I phoned and was told that he’s off for two weeks due to surgery!!  I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, and as Marilyn and I were baking that day I told her that I should just quit this idiotic business and get a job as a waitress.  I said, “This was a stupid idea.”  She tried to be sympathetic, but could tell that I was in a deep funk.

You know that old joke that goes something like a guy is praying “Dear God, please let me win the lottery.”  This goes on for years, and finally God says “Buy a damn ticket!”  So, I ‘bought a ticket.’  I e mailed every past customer and got some orders that way.  I phoned some new Buy-Low Foods, and got the stores in Vernon and Grand Forks willing to sample, and made an outright sale at the Lillooet store.  I e mailed Quality Greens with a firm message that now is the time to stock the product.  I called the Bench in Penticton and said the same.

Well, wouldn’t you know it?  That broke the spell.  The Bench ordered, Quality Greens e mailed back that I was right and should bring in a case of each ASAP.  Both the Osoyoos and Oliver Buy-Low Foods ordered.  I felt so relieved, and happily packaged my orders so we could deliver them on our way south for Thanksgiving dinner.  See?  Chutzpah works.

On the surface it does appear logical.  One has washed one’s clothes, and the dryer is now required.  However, the dryer is full of someone else’s clothes.  What to do?  One idea would be to put the clean clothes on the dryer, and another, more unorthodox one would be to throw them on the floor.

After I’d picked up my previously clean pillow cases, towels and underwear, I asked Nicky why he’d thrown everything on the floor.  He answered, “I was in a hurry.”  This is from someone taking philosophy at university.  He quotes ridiculous statements, then explains them with some ass-backwards reasoning, and says, “That’s logic.” I counter with, “Not to me, it isn’t.”  I never could understand any part of first-year philosophy when I took it, and I still can’t now.

My former business partner came by the other day and said, “I see you still have the piles of dirt in your yard.”  I said, “Those aren’t the old piles of dirt, they’re new piles.”  These are still leftover from The Big Garden Project in the spring.  I figure if I take one wheelbarrow full of dirt down to the vegetable garden a day, by next spring the yard will be clean.  That way, another car can either be put up on blocks, or if all else fails, we can just order another truck full of soil.

So the family and yard continue to act as handy hurdles to toughen me for the next few weeks.  But other than debating with Nicky, what to do to sharpen my seriously deficient mental acuities?  I’ve been busily purchasing inventory and baking, filling orders and shipping, and then I casually decided to see where I was at this time last year.  Mein Gott im Himmel!  I think I’ve been in some kind of stupor from all of the dieting.

By this time last year several stores had already ordered, so I hurriedly contacted them.  Thankfully, I’m now in Peppers Foods in Victoria and Stong’s in Vancouver.  Now if I can just coax orders out of my other regular customers then perhaps I can get this party started.  I now want orders flying out of here like Independents from the McCain/Pallin ticket.

Luke and his girlfriend are home from Calgary for the weekend.  It’s so sweet to think that only yesterday he was a small tot, and now here he is slicing a lime for his gin and tonic.  He and Nicky were reminiscing about how they would throw bits of uneaten food behind the books on the bookshelf downstairs.  It almost makes you want to go to their place and throw food around.

Because they’re only here for the weekend, we’re pretending it’s Thanksgiving so I’m making the entire turkey extravaganza.  I just have to pray to the Gods of Weight Watching that I’m able to eschew the pumpkin pie and whipping cream for dessert.  I have managed to squeeze off five pounds, and God knows, just one good night of horfing back the calories could easily have them return.

I’m quite sure that a loaf of bread and a container of honey are over my points limit on the Weight Watchers diet.  However, I’ve found that lately there’s no amount of self-talk that can keep me away from eating like a bear preparing for hibernation.  But when food is your best friend and solace during stressful times, maybe there’s no surprise in my need to wrap myself in it.

Please check this out: http://www.okanaganarts.com/fall08/schiller.php.   The editor of Okanagan Arts Magazine invited me to write an article about my business.  That, on top of the CBC Radio interview, has really driven the message home to people: Must Buy Fruitcake.  And when people are told that there is only a limited quantity available, it drives them crazy with desire.

As there are now only 87 days until Christmas, I have exactly 87 days left in my High Season.  I therefore know I can survive the 12-hour, seven-day-a-week schedule.  For comfort, however, a loaf of bread and a container of creamed honey come in mighty handy.

And speaking of wanton ingestion, Nicky eats Cold FX capsules like they’re candy.  It’s just ginseng, so I know it can’t hurt him, and I’m quite sure it does stave off colds.  He takes it because he’s paranoid that he’ll get sick and miss a party.  So, he enters into the three capsules, three times a day regime at the slightest tickle in his throat.  I try to keep my mouth shut, as I purchase the monthly supply for $55.

Luked phoned from Alberta and said he’s now making another $3,000/month on top of the astronomical amount he already makes!  This is the insane wealth coming from the dirty oil sands.  I’ve kept in touch with Luke’s favourite teacher, Gilles Leclerc, who he had in grade six.  I e mailed him that luke, with a 50.5% average upon graduation, now makes God Knows How Much money at an easy job.  He e mailed back, “That guy is like a cat.  He always lands on his feet.”

Landing on one’s feet can be a good goal in itself.  To motivate myself, yesterday I phoned the winery gift stores asking them if they needed more Okanagan Fruit and Rum bars.  I did this knowing that I have none made in advance.  Sure enough, an order was placed, and ta da! instant motivation.  Most people would be vomiting in a corner from this method, but it does seem to work for me.

So today I’ll bake and package, then tomorrow deliver the bars as Marilyn and I are heading south to Osoyoos for a visit with mom and Gerry.  That day of leisure will be it for quite a while, as we still have 2,000 fruitcakes left to bake, and about 6,000 fruitcakes to package!  Am I nervous?  I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know after I’ve eaten this piece of toast slathered in honey.

Of course I’m thrilled by the incredible response to my second interview on CBC’s Sounds Like Canada show yesterday.  People are ordering like sailors on shore leave at Happy Hour.  At least two people so far have ordered more than 10, and the other hundred or so usually order between two and four.  However, as I’m now going flat-out to fill these orders, I would appreciate it if those around me would at least act busy.  I find it quite irritating when the people around me are laughing and appearing to enjoy their little lives.

My new web designer possesses the spooky and weird skills of his ilk, and hence was able to show me on a graph the huge spike in the number of hits to my website.  By noon yesterday I had received over 10, 500 hits!  It’s been very exhilarating, but frightening at the same time.

On a happier note, I still manage to attend to the requisite beauty regimes.  As you know, I’ve joined Weight Watchers, which has done very little to date.  The other week I noticed I could no longer stand the large frown between my eyes so had to have botox injected into that.  Then I noticed that my hair is looking really bad, so next week it’s off to the hairdresser.  All of this adds up to almost a grand, and for what?  So an old fruitcake monger has the strength to hand out business cards to strangers.

I did that on Thursday night at the monthly networking event put on by the Chamber of Commerce.  If you’ve ever been to one, you know it takes every ounce of intestinal fortitude to make yourself go.  You walk into a room full of strangers, and then start speaking to some in the hopes you can jam a business card down their throats.  All things considered, it went fairly well, and perhaps one connection could lead to a corporate order.

I also still manage to squeeze in the odd bit of household instructions to Nicky.  The other day he was putting his laundry into the washing machine.  I said, “If you un-crumple your socks they’ll get cleaner.”  He asked what I meant.  I explained by showing him that if a sock went in his way, ie straight off the foot, inside out and half of it still folded into itself, it will get much less clean than if one straightens out the whole sock.  He was as amazed by that concept as I am by MSN.

My dear mentor from CBC, Prerna, had at one point suggested that perhaps I should offer to make gift baskets for people.  She thought my fruitcake paired with local wine would be a lovely idea.  I had to gently and carefully explain that I am almost in a mental institution from packaging the fruitcakes, and that the addition of more products would most certainly lead to one of those horrible murder/suicide situations on Hall Road.  All it would take would be one raucous guffaw of happiness from one of the family members, and that would be it.

It’s hard to believe.  I used to eat more butter in a day than an entire Nicaraguan family eats in a year, and after two weeks of starvation, I’ve lost a grand total of 1.5 pounds!  It’s quite discouraging, as I’m saintly in what I allow down my gullet.  No more Eggo waffles swimming in butter and syrup.  I’m now spraying a bit of Pam into a pan and scrambling two eggs instead.  And for all of that, I have lost one and a half pounds!

There is very good news on the business side of things, though.  The nice produce of CBC Radio’s show Sounds Like Canada, Jen Moss, has invited me back for another interview for their final segment on small business.  They invited one other entrepreneur and me, and we’ll be asked about the progress we’ve made as a result of having been assisted by CBC.

In particular, I’d have to say having a business coach has been invaluable.  The fear of having said I’ll do something and then not having it done just isn’t worth it.  And it’s not because Prerna is mean, it’s merely fear of disappointing her.  Along with her I also have weight loss coaches around me at Weight Watchers, and fitness coaches at the gym, so pretty soon I should be almost perfect.

There is a dear little instructor at the gym who tried one of my Okanagan Fruit and Rum Bars and said she loved it.  The other day she mentioned that she could really use one, so the next day I put one in my bag for her.  I actually hummed and hawed about whether I should give her another bar, if you can believe anything so stupid.  But, then I thought, “Oh for God’s sake, this kid needs the damn bar, give it to her.”

I handed her the bar, and she said how much she appreciated getting another one, and then added, “My boyfriend’s mom is a food distributor in Alberta.  I’m planning to give her one of these for Christmas.  Maybe she’ll decide to take you on.” And you see, the moral is that had I been cheap and anal, I would sitting here wondering how to grow the business.

Word of mouth seems to be working slowly, as I had someone inquire if they could buy an Okanagan Harvest Cake to help them decide if they wanted to buy it as gifts for Christmas.  The customer had asked in particular about the sweetness.  I told her that 2 cups of sugar make 14 cakes, so only about 1/7 of a cup of sugar per cake.  She lived downtown, so I dropped one off, and told her to let me know what she thought, and drove home.

When I got home and checked my e mail, I got a message from her saying that the cake had lasted for about 10 minutes.  She said she’d eaten the entire thing, and that convinced her to buy them as gifts, but she said she would not be ordering any more of them for herself.  It’s perverse, really, as I’m actually supplying the customers to Weight Watchers with my own products.