I was a teacher of the deaf for ten years, then spent 15 years as the co-owner of a company doing government contracting.  And now, as fruitcake monger and eccentric, I continue to live a humble existence.  So when mom and Gerry asked if I wanted to stay with them in their villa at the chi chi resort called Piedras y Olas (Pelican Eyes) in Nicaragua, I said, “hell ya!”

Fortunately for me, Luke said he wanted to come, and it was very easy traveling with him.  It was also fabulous for my mother, his grandmother, to spend that much time with him.  The trip was as arduous as one can expect when crossing through two countries.  We landed at Managua airport at 9:00 PM and were surprised to have to pay $5.00 to enter the country.  The muggy, tropical air hit us, and we were glad to be in an air conditioned hotel!

In the morning a pre-arranged driver came to pick us up, and he drove us on the pot hole-ridden road to San Juan del Sur, two and a half hours away.  It’s a small town, right on the Pacific Ocean.  We were driven to the top of the resort, as that’s where the Casa Madrono is, the place mom and Gerry are renting for two months.

From their deck, you can see wide, glossy-leaved tropical plants just below, and a sweeping view over them down onto the boats on the ocean.  Beside their villa is the lap pool with that gorgeous infinity edge.  You swim to the end and look over the entire ocean.  One of the two restaurants is located right there, too, so we never had to walk far for a swim or a meal!

We often walked into the town around 11:00 AM, at which time only the insane would do such a thing.  It is stinking, ungodly hot there, but as it’s only 11 degrees from the equator, one should expect it.  One of the employees at the resort said that many of the Nica (their name for themselves) are sick at this time of year with head colds and coughs.  He said the constant wind, which is so nice, will stop soon, “And then it will get hot.”  That should be interesting.

We planned our days around our meals.  Breakfast was mostly ordered in and delivered from the nearby restaurant.  I ate tropical fruit every single day.  Lunch was often eaten in the lower restaurant of the resort.  One day Luke and I had absolutely delicious tuna wraps.  One evening the cook grilled a special lobster dinner just for us.

The bulk of the dinners were eaten out in the local restaurants.  Sometimes we sat under a thatched roof, watching the pounding surf, and wolfing down giant shrimp.  At other times we ate in the town, and had sumptuous meals of either seafood or chicken.  All fruits, vegetables and meat are locally grown, so it was all gorgeously fresh.

One can easily become accustomed to phoning for a driver, but all too soon, reality impinges and it’s time to pack your bag and go home.  For once in my life I have gotten a tan, so am feeling particularly smug.  If I develop melanoma in ten years, please do not, for the love of God, remind me of this incident.

Isn’t it strange how fate can conspire to remove money from you when you least expect it?  I knew I was going to be out a few hundred dollars, as I told Luke I was taking him shopping for shoes and clothes.  His shoes were old runners that he removed in a drunken stupor from someone’s house last September, and has been wearing ever since.  One of the shoes has no laces whatsoever.

We went to Winner’s, and he got a coat, some shorts and T shirts.  When we couldn’t find shoes there we decided to meet at the mall.  When we got there, Luke had parked in the wrong area, so I rolled down the passenger window and he approached the van.  Unfortunately, due to Arnie’s lack of vision, and with is duty-bound attitude regarding me and the vehicle, Luke sustained a nasty bite on his finger.

At home we were chuckling about Arnie and his ability to bite even at his advanced age.  Then yesterday morning, while the dogs were enjoying their usual pigs ear eating routine, a dog fight broke out. Over the years, we have had the odd fight, always over food, and always instigated by Mojo.  I didn’t see the beginning of the fight, but it was loud and vicious, and I slapped Mojo off Arnie.

Later I noticed blood on the floor, and we thought one of the dogs had been bitten on the foot.  However, when I examined Mojo, I could see that her eye was cut and bleeding.  I went to fitness, and when I returned, I knew something was wrong as only Ricky greeted me at the door.  I’ve become used to Arnie not greeting me due to his advanced age, but Mojo and Ricky always do.

I approached the bed, and saw that Mojo’s eye was now the size of a kumquat.  I sighed in resignation, and dialed the vet.  Off we went.  Suffice it to say, by the time I returned to get her four hours later, I was relieved of nearly $400.  Good old Arnie!

The reason for the clothes purchase for Luke was largely selfish.  He and I are off to Nicaragua for ten days, and I told him there was no way I was going to sit with him on a plane looking like that!  I told him we would surely be searched as a result of his ratty attire.  As I mentioned earlier, mom and Gerry are already there, and we will stay with them at their chi chi resort.  Check it out at www.piedrasyolas.com.

But don’t cry for Denis, as he was offered the trip, but didn’t want to go!  I was initially a bit miffed, but now I’m glad as he can help Nicky with the dogs and cats.  God knows it’s a costly situation, if nothing else.  Plus, there is the general house monitoring that needs to be done, due to the vast amounts of friends Nicky likes to invite over if we’re not here.  As I’ve just been bilked for clothes and vet fees, the last thing I want is home renovation costs due to partying.

I will return on February 8th and will report back on the wilds of Nicaragua.

Last night I’d made quiche, and Luke was over.  I said to Luke and Nicky that instead of saying “Peace!” when they hang up the phone, they should say, “Quiche!” in the same tone of voice.  They both liked the idea, and Luke said he was going to try it.  I said to them that we might be able to start a new trend.

As spring is presumably just around the corner, I’m becoming obsessed about my garden project in the lower yard.  I told the family that as the world runs out of area to grow food, they’re going to be thanking me one of these days.  In fact, I said that chickens would be a natural addition to the project, and maybe a goat or a cow.

In the meantime, however, I fill my days with variations of chocolate pate.  Although nothing may come of it, I decided that it would be of interest to explore alternate products for the shoulder season.  Perhaps something like ‘chocolate and Okanagan apricot pate’ might work.  I’m also experimenting with a white chocolate pate, and maybe this would be divine with dried pears or peaches.

What does one do with so many experiments?  One eats them, then feels truly worried about one’s future health.  Last week at the gym the poor instructor, who weighs less than 100 pounds, had to help me get onto the ball.  Her fingers sank into the fat on my back, and she struggled with the unwieldy mass of flesh before her.  She really must wonder why I bother to attend at all.

And speaking of bad diets, the other day I came upon Nicky eating a large piece of raisin pie, accompanied by a glass of creamo.  The cats eat Temptations as though they are regular daily dry fare, and the dogs are much more like stuffed sausages than weiner dogs.  I’m not sure, but there may be something in the air at our place.

It’s funny, though, how as soon as I doubt myself vis a vis the fruitcakes, and contemplate a new product, I get nothing but fab feedback on the fruitcakes!  Alison told me that her husband ate an entire Totally Decadent in one evening.  Someone from Oliver phoned to say she’d scoured the Valley for fruitcakes after having had one at Christmas.  I’ve had several e mails from people who ordered on-line saying the fruitcakes were delicious, and promising to order again next year.

To keep my nerves under control as I steer Nuttier on its fateful course to wherever it’s going, I shop.  I got the most darling set of tinted yellow glass dessert plates the other day at my favourite giant garage sale, Value Village.  Then, feeling adventuresome, I hit Winner’s and bought half a dozen pairs of underwear.  Placated, I was able to speak the family mantra with conviction: “Quiche!”

That crazy feeling of “My God, I love my life!” continues.  I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be able to be home so early in my life.  I was sure I would be yoked to a desk somewhere downtown until I was at least 60 years old.  However, when one seriously puts their mind into manifesting their own destiny, well, look out.

Why then, does imagining oneself without a huge gut not work?  Here I sit; the proud owner of a stomach that could choke a small child.  I’ve been mulling over whether or not to even bother with New Year’s Resolutions, and finally decided that I really should try to do something about this blubber field.  The problem of course, is that to shed weight one must eschew things such as butter, creamo and chocolate.  Not good.

My friend Sharon read my Tarot cards for me for the coming year.  Everything is looking fabulous for Nuttier than a Fruitcake.  I just have to be open to the many teachers who will come into my life this year, as they are disguised, and hence not readily identifiable as bone fide ‘teachers.’

Mom’s poodle Schwartzie was here for a few days, as they are off to a chi chi resort in Nicaragua for two months.  Fortunately, the woman who takes care of mom’s house in her absence adores Schwartzie, and as she was away until now, we only had the dog for five days.  The dog is so used to being with octo and nonagenarians that she intensely dislikes tumult.  With three dogs and two cats, there is almost always some sort of a skirmish, which she hates.

Speaking of amusing skirmishes, one thing the dogs adore doing is barking like maniacs at any dog they see.  So, they especially love outings, as the possibilities are good for a bark-out.  If I can, I try to park beside a vehicle containing a dog, as then they can spend the time that I’m shopping jumping, barking and biting the windows.  Sometimes there’s quite a fug in the vehicle when I return.

The other day I parked beside a woman with a large fur collar, and they were having a fit over that!  It’s so funny, because Arnie is now blind, deaf and partially senile, but he is the leader of the pack due to seniority.  He thought the collar was a dog, and even though the miniatures could certainly see that it wasn’t, they knew Arnie was sounding the alarm, and so they just barked as furiously as they possibly could to help him.

Here is an example of why I find life so sweet: Ralph Lauren ankle boots.  Yes, I found a pair at consignment, and they are so fabulous I take them out of the closet every few hours and hold them.  I also bought the most adorable Holt Renfrew black velvet top – to die for!  I do think 2008 is going to be a fabulous, fabulous year!

I always feel wild with excitement and optimism at the beginning of a new year.  I think gardening helps a lot with this, as one always has great hopes for what is to come.  Also, “what you think, say and do comes back to you” so why not send out hopeful vibes instead of worried ones?

As I’ve been recuperating from Fruitcake Season, the Will to Live is slowly returning.  The other day I was lying on the couch with a knitted blankie, all three dogs and both cats scattered about.  I was reading an autobiography and enjoying the wafting scent from the bouquet of oriental lilies on the piano.  I started to feel the old fight coming back.

Emboldened, I drove to Home Sense and purposely got one of their giant carts.  As luck would have it, they had an additional 25% off on clearance items, so I just shopped until I felt winded and dizzy.  The young girl at the till was as happy as I was with each item that I had bought.

This kind of luck buoys a person, so off I went to Winner’s.  Did I say I had 19 pairs of dress pants? Whatever.  I found the greatest pair of Point Zero stretch pants that will be perfect for casual wear.  I seem to have found a fashion gap in my closet, ie casual pants, so now have Purpose and Meaning in my life again.

As happy as one gets, however, the children are always nearby to ensure that euphoria doesn’t get the better of the parent.  Luke’s old pal, Dan, aka The Boarder, is here from Alberta for a visit.  He was asking Nicky about school and work, and Nicky told him happily that he felt pretty sure that he was going to need five years to complete his degree.  He cheerfully added that he was going to live at home.

It’s at times like these that I put my fingers in my ears and sing “la la la la” for as long as it takes until he stops talking.  Otherwise, I would lose my mind entirely.  This morning I saw a half-eaten package of mozzarella cheese that was left open in the fridge.  Mugs with unidentifiable sludge at the bottom of them are routinely retrieved from the bowels of the basement.  Dumping their contents induces involuntary gagging.

We went to Yama’s last night for a Greek dinner to celebrate New Year’s Eve.  Then tonight I promised The Boarder his favourite pot roast dinner, so the eating appears to be continuing.  Fortunately, we’re now down to the crummy toffee candies in the Quality Street box, as well, the Baileys is almost completely empty.  Soon, very soon, we should be able to return to a life that doesn’t involve two to three kilos of sugar per day.

I’m so full right now I can barely type.  I woke up at 2:00 AM feeling completely bloated, and thought ruefully of the cookies and chocolates I’d eaten throughout the evening.  Just before bed I decided a nice shot of Bailey’s would be just the ticket.  It’s so odd the kinds of thoughts people have.

However, this morning I did go to a super-hard fitness class and that helped sweat out a lot of those nasty toxins.  Then, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, I shopped for groceries as though The Flood was imminent.  Invigorated, I drove to Value Village and found a couple of needed items.

It’s wonderful, but I’m still getting the odd on-line order.  As it turns out, a newspaper in Whitehorse picked up the Kelowna article as well, so I had a nice order from there.  So, I’m now known in Halifax, Red Deer and Whitehorse.  My last large order of the season was placed by Quality Greens on December 21st, and it’s been solid Christmas prep for the home since then.

As I said earlier, I baked the infamous Spitzbubchen, and also made another German cookie that my gramma used to make called Zimmtsterne.  I did some last bits of shopping and wrapped everything with matching ribbons and cards.  When my sister-in-law Margaret arrived, I made a brisket with roasted potatoes, and the next night a seafood casserole.  Anyone can do this as it is just shrimp, cod, salmon and a pound of butter.  It’s really hard to go wrong with that one.

There was generally a lot of food eaten, and large amounts of wine and Bailey’s were consumed.  Because of the four extra visitors, the presents couldn’t be contained under the tree.  We should have felt ashamed, but we didn’t.  Instead, we tore into our stuff and everyone was glassy-eyed and happy within an hour of beginning.

The little girl visiting helped hand out gifts and she was confused by the strangely labeled ones.  One said, “To Tweedle Dum from Tweedle Dee.”  Another said, “To the Nail from the Hammer.”  Amusing little witticisms like that.  We had to explain to her than any labeled like that were for Denis and me.  It’s been one of our traditions that we think of funny names for each other’s gift tags.

I stupidly left a box of chocolate covered marzipan on the ground and of course by the next morning one of the dogs had eaten half of them.  That night another sister-in-law visited, and she was sitting beside the dogs.  Sadly, they were experiencing issues with their digestive systems, and hence every few minutes she would exclaim about the odour emanating from the dogs.  Finally, she said somewhat angrily, “I’m going to have to wash all of my clothes when I get home!”

As I sit and type this snow is falling heavily, covering the majestic ponderosa pines surrounding us.  Sadly, these wonderful friends will be falling prey to a chainsaw in the spring due to the development proposal soon to come to fruitition.  It absolutely makes me sick, but what can I do about it?  It’s so unbecoming to chain onself to a tree.

On the weekend I was featured in the local Event Newspaper, and the Shaw Cable channel is running the piece they filmed last year.  This is helping nudge along sales, but sadly I have about 10 cases (240 fruitcakes) that I stubbornly wish to unload.  However, I’m still going to the post office daily with on-line orders, and that’s good.

I’m now on box #4 or #5, I’ve kind of lost count, of those Lowney’s cherries.  You know the ones, the maraschino cherries surrounded by a sickly sweet syrup and encased in cheap chocolate.  I’ve also lost count of the number of Spitzbubchen I’ve eaten (please add an umlaut over the u when you try to pronounce it).  I’ve also made rum balls, but have hidden them from myself.

It’s hard to believe, but I have three Martha Stewart magazines waiting to be read!  They were arriving during my busiest time, so I put them away, dreaming of Christmas holidays.  Now that life has returned to some normalcy, I’m stock piling the enjoyable things I’ll be doing, which is mainly lying on the couch with the dogs, reading.

Besides baking and writing the odd Christmas letter, I’ve also done the majority of my Christmas shopping.  Now, several thousand dollars lighter, I am done.  For some strange reason both Nicky and Luke wanted Xbox 360’s, and Denis is also getting some weird crap for his computer.  Any computer or gaming system would be thrown right at someone’s head were I to receive it.  However, they are from Mars, hency they love it.

As children begin to leave home (not mine, mind you, but those of friends) I notice people my age are beginning to down-size.  Maryjoy, one of my dear old pals from Osoyoos school days has sold their family home and she and her husband are moving into a condo.  I, on the other hand, appear to be going in the opposite direction as I am already ga ga with excitement about what will occur next spring.  I am going to expand my gardening to our lower yard and grow vegetables!

It’ll be too wonderful, as by then the hideous new subdivision will be paved in against my Garden of Eden.  Right now, our hill is dotted with ponderosa pine, Oregon grape and wild grasses.  Below that on the flat area, the newbies will see a peasant woman, barefoot, hauling water and laboriously hoeing a row of tomatoes.  She will be slightly deranged at times, shaking a rake at them and shouting as she turns up CBC Radio for the neighborhood to enjoy.  It will be my sweet revenge on behalf of the dear departed trees.

Sometimes I think of the leisurely job of the one-armed paper hanger and feel envious.  Or else, I think of the cushy jobs of the slaves who built the pyramids.  I’m sure they had the opportunity to sit to eat, or else to have a few hours to sleep at night.  On the other hand, the life of the fruitcake monger in December can only be described as Living Hell.

It was absolutely divine of Steve MacNaull of the Daily Courier to write such a nice article about me.  However, imagine my surprise on December 6th to receive a couple of dozen orders from Red Deer!  I asked one of the people, and she said there had been an article in their paper.  I got those orders out by the skin of my teeth, then opened my e mail two days ago and there were 30 orders from Nova Scotia!  A person there e mailed that a nice article had appeared in their local paper by a writer named Steve MacNaull.

Now I’m scared to open my e mail, as I don’t know which other papers might pick up that story.  Yesterday I threw a President’s Choice frozen butter chicken dinner at Denis, and Nicky made himself a frozen pizza.  I packaged for 14 hours without stopping, eating a couple of hard boiled eggs at noon, standing at the counter.

This morning I was the first person into one of the postal outlets, and took my 30 parcels to the poor clerk at the counter.  Fortunately, she remained good humoured about the entire thing, and as people were just starting to line up, I managed to avoid starting a fist fight.

Due to being this busy, I made the mistake of writing up a grocery list and sending Denis to the store.  I said to Nicky that I didn’t even recognize what store he’d shopped at from the obscurity of some of the items.  Important things, such as the cats’ Temptations were missing entirely.  He bought all of the canned varieties they hate.  I said, “Why didn’t you get the Friskies grilled salmon and the cod, shrimp and sole feast?”  He alleged that he couldn’t read the words on the list!

Yesterday I arrived home to a message from a writer for the local Event newspaper/magazine, asking if I would be willing to be photographed and interviewed.  Being the indelicate publicity hound that I truly am, I said sure.  Now that article will come out and drive sales once again.  Oi vey!

But with just 13 more day of Living Hell to endure, I’m sure I’ll make it.  I even managed to get a tree and decorate it as well as most of the house, so am keeping up with some of the holiday prep.  I’m afraid my yearly tradition of writing personal letters to family and friends will go by the boards, but I refuse to give up on the dream of doing some Christmas baking.  Crazy, I know.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to type with bandages around your right pointer and middle finger?  I’ve had to do this as otherwise the blood from my cut cuticles gets onto the nice white boxes.  When you package thousands of fruitcakes, skin is removed.  Who knew?

Then there are the bruises on my shins from transporting 30 boxes of fruitcake into and out of my van at the courier’s.  I tripped over the curb a couple of times, plus bumped my shins into the back of the van clambering in and out with weighty boxes.  For some unknown reason, however, I did not have to resort to screaming out a bad word.  I’m probably just too weak for something like that at this juncture.

I can’t complain (but will anyway) as my sales are crazy right now.  Steve MacNaull of the Kelowna Daily Courier wrote a fab article about me, and even dug up an old photo.  I was also mentioned by a nice writer in Calgary, and she e mailed me to let me know her article would appear in the Calgary Herald.  I checked it out, and she writes an outdoor column, and mentioned Okanagan Harvest Cake as a great hiking snack.  Now there’s a new marketing angle for me to explore in Janaury, should I live that long.

Shaw TV phoned and asked if they could run the spot about me they did last year, to which I said, why not?  I will also have an article in the Osoyoos Times tomorrow, so that will get people into the Buy Low Foods there.  My dad always referred to the Osoyoos Times as the Intelligencer, which I still prefer.

Tomorrow night I’m the guest speaker at the BC Wine Museum’s gala wine tasting event.  I’ve decided to pretend it’s one of those Fascinating Lives-type of talks one reads about.  Hopefully no-one will doze off during my talk.  I was e mailed that they’ve had a huge response, so I pray for the Muse of Public Speaking to descend upon me.

Unbelievably, Nicky helped me put together the tiny boxes for the huge Nokia order, and last night Denis stuck some labels on boxes for me.  I think they’re both looking at the number of days until Christmas and thinking that if they don’t at least appear to be helpful, Santa might just leave each of them a lump of coal.

So now it’s back to stuffing fruitcakes into boxes, labeling boxes, date-stamping boxes, and huffing finished cartons into the basement.  I’m thinking of buying one of those weight-lifting belts, as that way your back is  protected.  However, now that my fingers, shins and back are completely wrecked anyway, I’m thinking I should pay more attention to my mental health.  The other day I phoned a customer, and said, “This is Moni from Fruitcake, er, I mean Kelowna.”  I’m telling you, insanity is just a hop, skip and a jump away.

I’ve recently noticed that I’m euphoric, and as I’ve read somewhere that that can be a sign of a serious illness, I’m trying to keep it down.  However, every few steps I take I feel like hopping on one foot, and have that burbling well of happiness in my chest.  I’m quite sure that by next week I’ll be typing “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” over and over and over again.

And speaking of The Shining, we had our first snow, which puts everyone in the fruitcake mood.  I’ve just adored the last few steely grey, overcast days.  Somehow having a seasonal Christmas-related business makes bad weather a good thing.  It’s like I live in Opposite World.

Last Thursday Nicky was paid, so he and his friend Taylor ordered a platter of Greek food, which came to over $60.00  The next day he came home and showed me his rather garishly coloured hoodie, and proudly told me he’d paid $100 for it at Island Snow.  On the weekend he said, “Oh yeah, semester two’s tuition is due by January 1st, but you can pay it anytime between now and then.”

Our tenant left the little carriage house downtown, so Luke is now renting it along with another two kids.  When I told my friend Liz, she responded with, “That’ll be interesting” to which I replied that I had used that exact same word.  Each kid is to pay $300/month, and the other day Luke handed me $280 and said, “I had to spend $20.00 last night.”

I’m currently folding 1,150 boxes, then will put fruitcakes inside, and ship the whole thing to Nokia in Ontario.  If I can just get that out of the house, then I can concentrate on the stores’ orders, which are now coming in fast and furious.  I’m proud to say that there are an awful lot of repeat customers.  One woman at the gym told me she’d eaten an entire Totally Decadent Fruitcake herself and then dreamt about it.

In spite of having absolutely no time, I couldn’t resist a bit of guerilla shopping, just for the sheer thrill.  I went into Future Shop last Thursday morning, and asked one of the kids who works there if they had any Wii’s.  Of course I knew deliveries arrived Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings, so struck at the optimal moment.  Sure enough, they had 18 in the back, so the kid grabbed one for me.

I don’t need the Wii at all, but hunted it merely for the adrenalin rush.  Don’t think that the immorality of it all escapes me.  Yet unrepentant, I want to repeat this type of senseless consumer slaughter several more times throughout the next three and a half weeks until Christmas.  If prizes were awarded for Excellence in Shopping, I would surely win one!