Tomorrow’s the solar eclipse so maybe that bodes well for my hopes of catching a homeless cat I’ve noticed around the neighbourhood.  I’ve been thinking about it so much the other night I dreamt Mango brought the cat home and I was so happy.  But the reality remains that the cat is on the loose.

Margaret came for her annual summer visit and we ate lots of nice local things, such as peach pie, loganberries the size of our thumbs, and delicious dark red juicy Okanagan tomatoes.  All very lovely, and we also had a nice lunch at the Eldorado where we sat by the lake.

One morning as I was looking out the kitchen window I said to Margaret “there’s that wild cat I want to catch and tame.”  I went down the driveway to call the cat, but to no avail.  I think “here puss puss puss” only works on cats who know that’s meant for them.  Maybe homeless cats don’t know stuff like that.

Here’s a wondrous thing that’s occurred in my life – I now have my very own handyman.  I can’t believe how fortunate I am to have found ‘Syl’.  He’s one of those older, wiry, skinny dudes who can do anything you ask.  Gutters are cleaned, the pebble driveway has been cleared of weeds, broken down spouts have been replaced, the sunroom roof has been washed, and so much more is due to come.

So the other day I told Syl to keep an eye out for that cat, which he did.  He told me he saw the cat right inside this very yard the other day!  So I have to figure out a way to get food out where the dog, squirrels, coyotes and raccoons don’t go, but where a cat might.  Hard.

Can you believe my honey extractor broke after just a couple of uses?  But guess who knows how to fix it?  Yes, good old Syl’s got the broken part, is replacing the bearing, and so I can soon retrieve more frames of honey and spin them.  I’ve been too scared to return to the hive since last time when I couldn’t get the final frame to go into place.

The poor bees have worked like sons of you know whats, to get that sealed as the lid wouldn’t go on flush due to the one corner of the frame not lying flat.  However they’re going to be even angrier, to have worked so hard filling all those frames with honey, and then I go Yoink! and grab their stuff.

I’d really like to get a second bee suit as Syl would be a great help with beekeeping.  He’s looked at the overgrown lower yard area, and knows he has to weed whack the whole thing, but then I want an arbour built for my hardy kiwis.  They’re falling right over, and I have 9 kiwis for the first time and hope they’ll ripen.

So Syl knows he can’t fool around as he has so many things to do, and it should all be done before it’s too cold.  I said to him I do hope you’re not planning on relocating any time soon, and he assured me he’s not.

I’m going to e mail mom’s neighbour Lynne who’s had a lot of adopted homeless cats over the years and see if she can give me some tips on how to get this animal into my house.  The cat’s all happy right now, but by December it won’t feel so plucky.

Imagine my dismay upon leaving one of our Liberal executive meetings only to find myself stuck behind the president as we descended Lakeshore Road.  Stan’s an absolutely adorable person, but he drives like an old lady.  I tailgated him down the hill, and as we turned onto Swamp Road we were stopped at a red light.

I rolled down my window, and as he has a convertible I knew he could hear me, and screamed at him “Move over.  Get off the road!”  People in nearby cars and a man on the sidewalk stared, but I continued my rant and started waving my arm indicating “get off.”

Stan had Ken the treasurer in the car with him, and he dutifully pulled over to the side so I could get ahead of him.  Free, I put the pedal to the metal and did the usual giddy spree down Swamp Road, through the first roundabout, through the next roundabout, and home within 10 minutes of leaving Alice, the vice president’s, place.

The next day I sent an e mail to Stan saying hey sorry but I like to make it between my house and Alice’s in ten minutes.  He replied no problem, and said he’s been passed by blondes in red hot rods many times.

Today my bold streak seemed to hold as I went down to the big bee hive and took out every frame, and found five heavy and full of honey, so removed those.  One replaces those with blank frames, and as usual, the last one just wouldn’t go in properly.

If you can imagine, riddling a hive filled with 80,000 angry bees as you try to get the 11^th frame into the hive box in a bee suit in the Okanagan in July is no picnic.  I finally gave up, and thought “F. it.”  Yes, I swear when near the bees and am not in any way the image of the calm beekeeper.

And the lower yard is no sea of tranquility for my poor neighbour Pat who’s so neat and tidy in his yard.  However I’ve left the alfalfa to grow wild everywhere, and the bees are having a ball with it.  The result is a field of alfalfa with the remnants of old garden beds evident in places.

But despite the wretched gardening efforts, my season’s been filled with decent bounty.  I had very dark red and lovely rhubarb, followed by sweet strawberries.  I’ve just eaten the last of my blueberries and can pick ripe figs from my little fig tree.

The poor, neglected apricot tree has fruit on it, too, so now I go down and pick a few apricots, warm, from the sun, and eat them right there.  For the first time ever I have little kiwis forming on my kiwi plant.  I’ve had that thing for at least five years and this is the first year for fruit.

And of course I eat lashings of honey and honeycomb.  Jan, Haruka and I just scrape the honeycomb right off the frames and eat it.  Good thing, as the extractor I bought last year for around $200 is a piece of junk and I can’t get the handle to turn at all this year.

Nicky frowns at the pieces of dead bees and other debris in the honeycomb and refuses to eat it, which is unfortunate, as it’s the joy of trying crazy stuff that makes life fun.

You know what they say, when the going gets tough, the tough start baking.  This morning I noticed black billowing smoke in the distance and figured this is it, another fire.  That’s what happens when there’s a province-wide emergency and you’ve been evacuated before for fire.  Your nerves go.

But it turns out a condominium burned down, and that’s what caused that huge plume of black smoke.  I feel bad for the poor people who had to be evacuated and lost all their stuff.  But in the meantime, I just had to start baking to calm my nerves.

Alice, my pal from the Liberal executive, gave me two huge zucchinis, so I made two loaves, one the normal variety with spices and the other with chocolate.  They’re currently in the oven filling the kitchen with that lovely smell of home baked goods.

And for the past while I’ve been immersing myself in Friends, starting with episode 1, and so every night I get to sing the theme song four or five times.  The dog just loves it as it really does put one in a relaxed and happy mood.

And why not, as the show began in 1994 when life was good.  Clinton and Chretien were in power, and the economy was roaring.  I got Arnie in 1995.  I have a lot of nostalgia for the 90’s.  Even the idea of a summer filled with forest fire haze was unthinkable then.

Today Nicky came by with their adorable mutt, Fuji, and he upset Louie as usual, just by his mere presence.  Louie just cannot stand that young dog, and the dog worships Louie so it’s one of those unfortunate relationships.  The little dog crouches, wagging, inches from Lou’s face, and Lou just gets up and walks away.

Nicky, Haruka and Fuji are coming for dinner tomorrow so Louie will be upset once again.  Then we’re off to the Buddhist temple for a Japanese festival and I’ll get to watch Haruka performing in her drumming group.

For more stress reduction, I have plans to make a proper Black Forest cake for my birthday party next week.  I bought Kirsch which is de rigueur, and it requires one uses ripe cherries and not the ghastly pie cherries used in some places.  That isn’t a proper Black Forest cake.

I also found a divine recipe for chicken liver pate, which I’ll make and freeze so that I can give it to mom.  She had her mouth set on it the last time I visited, and when I arrived she said where’s the pate?  I said to her she’d told me she had plenty of food in the place so I didn’t bother making it.  That was a mistake, obviously, as one always has room for pate.

Last week I made a cherry fool which is just pitted cherries cut in half and mixed with whipping cream, which I gave to Haruka to take home to Nick.  She was here with the hound from hell and I babysat him as she shopped.  God knows neither Lou nor Fuji can be left unattended as they’re too precious.

And the final stress reliever is a tablespoon or two of my very own honey, which is laden with honeycomb and supposedly very healthy.  I should be as calm as a cuke.

Luke’s wife Jan and I went to the Kangaroo Creek Farm in Winfield.  It’s about 12 acres of wallabies, emus, capybaras, goats and exotic foul.  The ducks are from Indonesia and have adorable punk rocker-style tufts of feathers on the tops of their heads.  A beautiful chicken with a crest on its head had two fluffy chicks, one day old, racing about.

Jan loves animals as much as I do so we petted as many of them as we could.  We snuck up to some albino wallabies snoozing in the shade of a wagon and scratched their little backs.  All of the animals are just too full to accept any treats so you’re just lucky if one deigns to come over and lets you pet it.

On the way home I gave Jan a tour of the development around Quail’s Gate golf course, and then ran around UBCO as well.  A trip wouldn’t be complete without stops at Asian Market and Super Store.

It was a brief respite from the to do lists that always await.  I’ve gotten a fair bit of things done, but my God, have they ever cost a lot of money.  I had the entire yard pruned and I nearly choked when handed a bill for $1453.  However they arrived at 8:00 and worked non-stop until 3:00 so perhaps that’s just how much it costs.

And notice how I said “I’ve gotten things done” which should be interpreted as “I phoned people and made them do things.”  But then the bill comes and one weeps a bit.  But I have enough to do to finish shovelling out a yard of pebbles onto my xeriscape garden’s pathway.

Lorraine my beekeeper friend came to help me and she was thrilled to see my new hive.  She said my original hive already needed the queen excluder and honey super put on top, so I should soon have 40 pounds of honey from that hive.

And Lorraine’s so funny because as we were fooling around with the bees and putting the hive back together she asked, “Are you happy with that table, then?”  I had no idea what she was alluding to, so replied happily “well, I was, but shouldn’t I be?”

It’s one of those metal café tables, but once all three hive boxes are full, that would be 40 pounds times 3, or 120 pounds on the table by fall.  I said I hadn’t even thought of that, and so now I need to look for a sturdy bottom.

Lorraine said why not get a pallet, and I said but that’s ghastly, as then you have to bend right down to the ground.  The way I have this set up I’m eye-level with the top and so can easily work without a backache.  But whatever, as she said you really don’t want to come out one morning with the whole hive smashed, do you?

No, Lorraine, I do not.  So will add that to my list, as I always enjoy a shopping mission.  I’m quite happy to be assigned something to shop for as then I come home with surprises.

Can you believe, but I already collected four frames of honey from my hive?  The queen is just fantastic, and I’m extremely proud of her.  I’ll have to keep harvesting on a regular basis because otherwise if the frames are all full of honey, the queen has no place to lay eggs.  So I’ll remove honey-filled frames, then replace with blank ones.

And can you imagine my shock and excitement over the recent realization liquor no longer means migraine?  Over the past many years, I’ve learned even one drink can spike a terrible migraine, and so I’ve been kind of afraid of booze.

However mid-February I went on this incredible nutrient-rich food and supplement intake and 12 weeks later my body had changed.  No more migraines, and a very nice propensity towards being able to hold fairly decent amounts of liquor again.  Woo Hoo!!

Of course it’s a time commitment to shovel all of that down one’s gullet, but it appears to be well worth it.  I’ve lost maybe 5 pounds in the process, so that’s been a bit of encouragement as well.

On Friday my mom and I, and my school friends Phyllis and Maryjoy, attended a memorial for our old high school teacher, and mom’s friend, David Holmes-Smith.  He was my English Literature teacher and therefore very inspirational.

I recall when we read Hamlet I got hold of nearly every copy in the room, crossing out the word Ham and writing in Pig.  I changed Hamlet to Piglet and thought I was extremely witty.  He on the other hand, being Oxford educated, found me and my Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In style musings not very funny.

Tomorrow at 8:00 AM I’m to be at the Okanagan Bee Farm to pick up my ‘nuc’ hive.  That’s a new hive of baby bees with a queen.  Hopefully they’ll make it over the winter as well, and then I should have two, and maybe even three hives by next spring.

My friend Lorraine who’s a seasoned beekeeper’s coming in two weeks to check if there are any ‘queen’ cells.  If so, we can put that frame elsewhere and perhaps start a hive that way.  Soon the property’ll be littered with hives.

In preparation I got another set of hive boxes, screened bottom board, hive cover and 20 frames.  The cost was about $250 so I said to the kid at Buckerfields, “Honey’s still running at about $200 a jar.”  So hopefully in a year or two it’ll get cheaper.

And then joy of joy, you should see my drink options.  I can make Manhattans, tequila sunrises, cosmopolitans, Margaritas, pina coladas, and many more.  It’s quite heady, really and an awful lot more fun than just pouring a glass of wine, as I used to do.

However there are two liquors I simply cannot stand, and those are gin and Scotch.  To me, the former tastes of perfume and the latter of medicine, so not sure how people find those palatable.

My fig tree has 13 figs on it, so I hope they ripen and it makes more.  My dahlias are planted, and so now all I have to do is enjoy.

You know how I like to hang on to friends for decades, and last week Sherrie, who I’ve known since grade 1, came over for lunch.  Can you imagine visiting with someone you’ve known for 56 years?  Her husband Art came too as she doesn’t drive, but we shooed him away so we could reminisce properly.

Since I go to Osoyoos often to help mom I get to see the old haunts, not that there are a lot of them in that little berg.  Sherrie and I still refer to Happy Hollow as Happy Hollow, which any newcomers wouldn’t even know.  That’s the area behind the RCMP station and the school and is indeed, a steepish hill leading to a flat area.

I never run into anyone I know in that little town as I guess most have moved away.  When I grew up in Osoyoos the population was 1500 but now it’s 5000.  It’s still fabulously easy to get anything within a few minutes.  I can hit the health food, drugs, grocery and liquor stores easily under an hour.

And this is sadly no longer the case in Kelowna where everyone and their dog now wants to live.  Why?  We’ve had a horrible winter and no spring to date.  If you’re reading this and are contemplating moving here, please don’t.

I sold our Richter street house myself within two months of listing it, so there’s no way this market is showing any signs of cooling down.  I keep hearing about how exorbitant rents have become.  In other words, do not move to Kelowna unless you have buckets of money.  Kind of like Vancouver.

Nicky and Haruka adopted a ten week old King Charles cavalier spaniel and named him Fuji.  Nicky brought him over the day Sherrie was here and we were all going berserk over how cute he is.  Naturally this didn’t sit well with Louie at all, as he immediately snapped at the puppy and hated him.

Louie loves people and on our walk his happiest moments are when we run into someone who’ll give him a little petting.  The mail people are fantastic as Louie starts to run when he sees the mail truck and so they have to stop and get out no matter what else they may be trying to do.

So I just assumed a dog that loved all people would at least like a puppy but no.  He doesn’t really like other dogs, though he doesn’t act mean to them.  He’s a people dog, not a dog dog, and certainly puppies are anathema to him.

Because of this dreck weather I’m horribly behind, but there’s some hope on the horizon.  When the nice sprinkler company came to turn on my system, I mentioned my pruning dilemma to them and they said they had someone who prunes.  I was so thrilled as I don’t give a damn what it costs, I won’t have to kill myself with these tall cedars.

It’s amazing how quickly hedges and trees can get out of control.  So I want these people to just cut the hell out of all of it, and that should be good again for a while.  Even though I enjoy the image of being Sleeping Beauty in her overgrown castle, it gets to be a bit much when there’s no longer any house visible at all.

Today I delivered my first batch of 120 cookies to the Gospel Mission downtown.  As you know, I love to bake, and without the fruitcake business I was yearning for consumers of some of my baked-goods.  I contacted the Gospel Mission and they said sure, bring them on over!

So with any luck, they’ll receive those weekly.  However lately I can’t commit to much given poor old mom’s in terrible shape from osteoarthritis.  She’s currently largely bedridden, and so I spend a bit of time at the house helping out.  Louie enjoys it there tremendously which is lucky.

We’re hoping she’ll bounce back once again, as she’s done it before.  She’s in very good mental shape for 92, but the body’s starting to balk.  Luke spent the night at Easter and said he gave mom a good pep talk about the importance of trying to walk.  And today mom said she was walking up and down her hallway, so maybe that’s progress.

Like this cold spring, I’m also about three weeks behind schedule.  I just can’t understand how I used to work and find time for anything else, as now that I’m completely retired I don’t seem to have any time at all.  What happens to time when you retire?

But I guess between dog walking, yard work, helping mom and baking cookies time just gets away from a person.  Certainly blog and newsletter writing has been sluggish as well.  I need an inspiration or a new direction.

The other day Luke suggested we should start an E Bay account and then my job would be to browse thrift stores for stuff to sell.  He said he’d go to Pick ‘n Pull and try to find obscure small car parts to flog.  To date nothing’s happened.

One thing I’ve been busy doing is re-decorating the basement suite.  Nicky and Haruka took the bulk of the furniture when they moved, so I had to replace it.  I got a fantastic wood table and set of 4 chairs for $100, and a couch for $150 from a downtown office.

I went through the bookshelves and culled vast numbers of books which I’ll drop at the Salvation Army. Now I basically need adorable things like throw cushions and a mirror, plus perhaps a standing lamp or two.

If it would turn nice, I have to re-pot my fig tree, and also get my dahlias into pots and into the greenhouse to get them started.  I’m still pruning down old growth in my xeriscape garden, and need to weed like mad.  The garden still looks terrible from winter.

And here’s the kicker about the health regime I’ve been on: no weight’s come off this carcass whatsoever.  I used to binge on Revels and other bad stuff, now eat like a lowland gorilla and haven’t shed any bulk.  Why?

I guess I should just give in to obesity and dress for it.  You know how Trump has 4 foot long ties so that his stomach looks normal size?  I’ll have to find some female dress equivalents so that I can fool the public as well.

Mango the cat is going to turn 13 at the beginning of April, and one of his favourite snacks is poisoned ants.  Because this house seems to be a refuge for huge colonies, there are times when an army of ants can be seen marching into it along the walls.  I attack with Raid foam and also put those little cans of poison around.

Whichever it is that actually kills them, I don’t know, but there are times when their dead bodies are belched all over a small area.  Soon Mango’s over there, eating all the corpses, then meticulously cleaning himself afterward, as though he hasn’t just chemically altered his whole body.

And speaking of birthdays, little Louie’s going to turn four on April 1^st.  It was sad but the other day he was soundly beaten up by a skittish black lab on our daily walk in the neighbourhood.

I saw the youngish woman and the dog on a leash approaching and Louie did too and he started to get excited to rush forward to greet them.  Being a Lover and not a Fighter, he was pretty shocked by what happened over the next few moments.

Just as the woman was saying she didn’t like it when her dog started stalking the way she was, at the same moment Louie started growling at the dog and also lunging for it, and suddenly the melee was on.  Dog fight on Hall Road!

As this dog was three times Louie’s height, she had him off the ground in her mouth and he was being shaken out like a dirty mop.  He was screaming and I was yelling Help Help, while the woman fought to get her dog to release Lou.

I inspected my dog, and didn’t see anything on him so told her he was okay.  She apologized and left admonishing the dog as they walked away.  Louie ran all the way home, and wasn’t himself for the rest of the day.

A few hours later I noticed he was holding his head to the side, and then I saw one ear flap had an incision from a bite mark.  I put Polysporin on it, and otherwise the dog was fine.  The next day he went on his walk as though nothing traumatic had occurred the day prior.

And here’s some happy news.  The bees survived the winter!  I went down on the first sunny and warm day in March and took off the insulation.  I put my ear to the hive and couldn’t hear a thing so I thought they’d probably bought the farm.

But then I pried open the lid, and there they were, crawling around the top of the frames.  I had a pollen patty ready for them which I slapped on top of the bees and frames and put the lid on top of that.  With that food they’ll easily make it until the dandelions bloom.

I’ve researched chickens, but I haven’t done one single thing about ordering any. First I need a handyman to convert the kids’ old playhouse into a coop.  Then I need fencing around, and actually over top due to the raccoons.  Otherwise, no chickens.

In a month or so I’ll be picking up a second hive, so will concentrate on the bees for now.

The Christmas before last I bought myself a small portable turntable so I can play all of my old albums.  I’m currently listening to Neal Young’s After the Goldrush and just loving it as much now as I did in 1972, albeit without the teenage angst.

The albums are an archaeological record of my growth and development.  There are a couple of very early Beatle albums, A Hard Day’s Night and Beatles VI, both of which I would’ve received for Christmas from my mom in 1965 or 1966.

After that there are several of the Monkees’ albums.  I remember Freddie’s puzzlement at my dumping of the Beatles for the Monkees, but to a 12 year old girl they were like dandelions to the bees.  I was completely besotted first by Ringo Starr  of the Beatles, and then Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees.

Not surprising then, that I decided to join the percussion section of the Osoyoos Elementary Junior Secondary School band when I was in grade 7.  I’ve written of this traumatizing experience before, however will just remind you of it again.

Every Tuesday there was an assembly in the gym, and this began with the Lord’s Prayer and Oh Canada.  The latter began with a drum roll, and that would be me.  Mr. Storwick would extend his right arm full length, and point his finger at my face.

This was the moment one lone girl had to play a drum roll for the entire student body or die.  Naturally I always did it, but at great expense to my nerves.

I was too poor for a record player for several years, so there’s a music gap until my first job in Prince George teaching the deaf.  From that epoch I can see I branched out, and from the late 1970’s there are several Bruce Springsteen, the Clash, Blondie, Graham Parker, Billy Joel and Elvis Costello albums.

Those albums don’t remind me of teenage angst, but rather of extreme drunken behaviour in the North.  Prince George from 1978 to 1983 was a trip.  It was filled with young folks, many of whom were fascinating artists and poets, and my years there were a blur of parties and bad assed hangovers.

After that there are the records that represent my move to Vancouver, meeting Denis, and getting married.  These are artists like Tina Turner, Cyndi Lauper, Huey Lewis, and Bryan Adams.  However Luke was born in 1986 so that’s where the music ends.

By the time I got around to listening to music again albums were gone, and I had to buy CD’s.  They’re fine, but they sure don’t bring me the nostalgia of my old record albums.  I wrote “Aldo and Me” and drew a heart around it on many of the Beatles albums.  Those who knew me in 1967 know that was my very first boyfriend.  Great memories!

You’ll recall I was gloating as I thought I’d sold the Richter street house, but no.  The hairdresser and husband said they found a house they liked better, and another couple who looked at it weren’t thrilled.  I’m showing it again on Monday, so let’s hope the thing moves.

But guess what?  I’m finally learning to let go of things and go with the river instead of fighting it all the time.  Total surrender, and I have to admit things are easier to manage that way.  I’m working with a wonderful Reiki master and meditating daily, so I have to say I’m pretty calm.

Today I meditated fully for 19 minutes, and I started just a while ago with 2 – 3 minutes and I’d give up.  I love the idea of just sitting and emptying the mind, as it’s a wonderfully relaxing thing to do.  The worst way to be brought out of it is with the staccato bark of the intrepid dachshund as he spots a squirrel on the telephone wire.

This weekend dear mom is turning 92 so I plan to make a chocolate cake for that.  Actually, it’s my chocolate chunk cake that the kids and everyone is really crazy about as it’s made with cocoa, and has chunks of chocolate in the batter as well.  Naturally it has chocolate icing, and made in 4 layers so a person’s a bit dizzy after eating a piece of it.

One can never really have too much chocolate, I don’t think.  When I was growing up in Osoyoos my grandparents would go to town for groceries every Saturday.  They’d come home just before Bugs Bunny would start at 4:00 PM and always had some of my favourite chocolate bars for me to mete out to myself over the week.

My friend Petra came for coffee this afternoon, and that engendered hours of cleaning.  Just for two hours of coffee, I started yesterday and was just finishing up as she knocked on the door.  I cannot believe how filthy this house can get.

But now it feels fab to sit here in a clean house as I type, looking at the bouquet of pink tulips she brought.   I feel sad about my outdoor tulips as last year I had part of the heaved asphalt driveway removed and crush put down.  This went right to the edge of my tulip bed and I don’t think they have a hope of making it back up through that.

We still have snow in our yards here in Kelowna, though Osoyoos is nice and dry as ever.  100 miles sure makes a difference, which always surprises me.  But I can leave here in a full snow storm and by Penticton there’s nothing left of the bad weather at all.

Here I am on my one thousandth diet, and hoping for the best by summer.  I’m not starving myself but have largely stopped eating sugar, so that’s got to do something.  However I’m not insane so on the weekend I will allow myself a lovely peach cocktail as otherwise what’s the point?

So with my new-found calm, I do hope I can think positively and sell the Richter street house so that I can get solar panels slapped onto the roof.  They’ll look kind of funny but I guess it’s good as they’ll be an advertisement to the neighbourhood to get with the program.  I can be a role model of how to avoid being complicit in the Site C dam.