Author: Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

Departures

After ten years of ignoring my blog (except using it to track back shit an ex did to her for a court case), Katie this morning declared that everything I’ve ever said about her on the blog is unacceptable, a gross violation of her privacy and that my blog is the reason she never wants to talk to me again. Katie is very angry with me.  She also says she’s never going to do anything in food service again, as she is done with that too.

Katie packed a satchel, handed me back the house keys, and left for parts unknown.  So endeth my happy delusions, and so commenceth my unimpeded impact with reality.

Katie has friends and relatives who would gladly take her in, so although I am very sad about this I know she’ll be okay.  She’s a survivor.

And this is my response…. After today I won’t be mentioning her.  If she ever tells me what it is I’m supposed to remove, I’ll gladly do it, but I’m at a loss.  It’s the worst thing I ever did to her and she doesn’t care if I change it.  How to process that?

 

 

2020 says lol

 

 

disgust!!! ew!!!

Today the lung specialist/sleep specialist ran a fibreoptic scope up me schnozz to determine my diagnosis re apnea.  (TLDR got a scrip for a CPAP machine).  Yes, he zapped me with lidocaine first, and a truly disgusting taste is now mine free gratis.

OH YUCK.  See Allegra’s nares up close and OH MY GOD there is a FOREST of hairy trees in her nose.  Honestly, stomach flopped a bit. Then the sort of grayish pink of my nasal cavities (right side was too small to admit the scope, so OH GREAT I GET TO SEE THE FOREST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF MT SEPTUM).  Then on to the moist and furrowed canyon of my gullet including my weenie lil tonsils, my damned big uvula and my grossly normal vocal chords, which is not otherwise a soubriquet one applies to my pipes.

And I have mild apnea, a CPAP should take care of it, and he refused to give me a copy of the film, the rat. Cause I SO would have posted it, yo.

Oh well

It takes an adult to admit a mistake, and okay, I made one.  I said something without thinking to a customer that wasn’t the customer’s business, and Katie let me know how angry she is.  And still is.  Katie and I after much discussion are going to sell the cafe.  Wish us luck in selling it!

I am obviously quite miserable.  I’ve spent so much time and money getting the place up to snuff, and one would think that it’s foolish to bail without giving it a chance, but Katie has indicated that she’s no longer interested and I know in my heart I cannot work six days a week for the next six months until I can give myself a break at Christmas.  Maybe Chipper can work that hard for a season, but I know I can’t.

Miserable or not, I have to face facts, and they are plain and unequivocal.  I’ll be meeting a potential buyer this afternoon. I googled the buyer and they already ran a bakery on the Sunshine Coast, so they won’t be starting from scratch like we did.

I had a lot of hope.  Now I just have a lot of paperwork and a very heavy heart. When it’s done, and all wound up, I’ll start phase II of the ‘reinventing myself’ plan.

 

Katie is awesome

She really really is! She proved her worth repeatedly during the shop (and its aftermath) this morning.  A good partner.  She’s showering and gearing up for a day spent with friends right now.

I am going to have a lazy Sunday, and plan tomorrow… a day when my oldest child turns 27.  Anything I say on the subject is going to draw a hollow horse laugh from the cherished progenitors, so I shall turn the subject to something else.

We have precisely one catering job for July and my task tomorrow (after I see the doc about apnea stuff) will be to devise a plan to git moar bizness.  I am going in in the morning before the doc appointment to make cheese scones ( a great way to dispose of leftover sliced cheese from the previous week).  Also, I learned from Nevada, the renter who hopefully will come in August, that if you proof the biscotti in loaf format you save a pile of time and effort; the biscotti made that way were so good that I started crying when I ate them, and declared “Best biscotti evar!” and so you can see why I was glad that Jeff and I got the leftovers for that batch but the rest of the batch went to the second best user desk staffer I ever met, former colleague from Schneider, Mike.  (Jeff comes first OF COURSE). He useta love it when I brought in biscotti, and me knowing that keeping the IT guys happy was a prerequisite for happy corporate serfdom, he always got his share.  Now he pays!  bwa ha ha!
Otherwise we had a slow day, but it certainly had other compensations.

 

Now to laundry and loafing…

Nonsense song

I can’t fly but I’ve learned to dance
I’ve got a mustelid in my pants
If I hold still maybe you can grab it
I think he’s in there after the rabbit
and if you ask how did a rabbit git
into the pants of my new outfit
I tell you I don’t make a habit
of being habitat for any passing rabbit.

There is fresh chocochunk cheesecake and I’ma make a batch of biscotti later.

Eddie you old codger

Eddie is the senior cat in the household.  He’s 15 or 16, and while his back end is starting to be saggy, he’s a very sleek and healthy cat who simply despises Miss Margot…. or pretends to.

Last night Jeff and I were watching the thrilling conclusion of the 1st season of Veronica Mars when Eddie started to howl.

Normally he howls when he’s caught something and brought it back into the house or he howls from existential angst.  This time it was low, sad howls, and he didn’t want to move away from the cat door.

I looked at my brother and said in a horrified whisper, “Where is Margot?” Normally when we watch tv she’s parked at the top of the stairs or on the floor close to the tv.

The two of us leaped up and searched the house.  Jeff popped the front door and Margot bolted into the house from her hiding place under my car, where she’d obviously been trapped by another cat.

Which is how we learned that he has a special call when Margot is in trouble, because that’s how he was the last time he rescued Margot (she got locked in the garage). He got many skritches for his assistance, and Margot of course is impervious to correction or comment.

No, I am not a misandrist

If I see another frakking opinion piece that starts out “Real Men Don’t…” I’m gonna lose it. If you have a preference about what the men in *your* life do or how they treat their lives or you, please don’t preface it with that ill thought out attention grabber. Otherwise it’s just you wishing that the men you deal with had been brought up better or alternatively cared about you at all. (Gosh, isn’t it amazing that all those opinion pieces about men’s behaviour bind them to what’s currently FASHIONABLE? GAH.) And by a cruel trick of rhetoric, that will lead directly to me writing an opinion piece that starts out “Real men wear dresses and put baby animals on their heads, BECAUSE I SAID SO.”

What I learned in June 2013

I learned that a car with no insurance, no driver, and the e-brake engaged can still hit your car if a garbage truck hits it and sends it into your car. I learned that just thinking about something sweet that the kids did for me when they were six years old can make me cry. I learned that raising children who voluntarily and out of their own pockets go visit their grandparents is one of the most poignant joys of parenthood because despite everything you did wrong you and your spouse did something ever so right. I learned that nothing sits in the guilty comforts zone like air conditioning. I learned that I have sleep apnea, and with no medical I’m in for a lovely and expensive treat. I learned that every time your children take on adult attitudes and roles you get hit three times; once HEY YOU’RE OLD MOM, twice HEY I LEARNED THIS EARLIER THAN YOU DID and HEY I AM A SEPARATE HUMAN FROM YOU. I learned that whenever your kids do something stupid you still blame yourself and that doesn’t seem to let up with time. I learned that I’d rather fix than replace anything. I learned that if I don’t cook with love it doesn’t turn out, and I shouldn’t cook if I’m not feeling the love. Which is how I learned that I’m still a dilettante when it comes to restaurant scale food production.

hot hot hot heat

Man, it’s ROASTING IN HERE. And Katie, because she is a fucking genius, came in yesterday when it was much cooler and did all the baking.  So instead of being ROASTING PLUS HELLISH it’s just roasting.

I can haz iced coffee!

Today we await the formal opening of the community centre and we’re doing a bit of rearranging in the shop.  Thanks to Jeff’s computer madskillz we have the menu on the shop tv!

Okay, enough of this beetling about on the internet, I have bags of lentils to move.

A new beginning

Monday we’ll be open 7 to 7 six days straight. Part of me is sad I won’t be spending as much time with Katie. But we now can do what needs to be done over the course of the day and we just need to bite the bullet and DO.

 

The ovens will be about $1.5k to fix.  Given that they’d be 5 to 6k each to replace I figure we are getting off lightly. The top oven is working safely again but a draft diverter is the next major expense. Who knew that the fans for Bertha’s compressor would wreak such havoc on the gas ovens. Damned good thing we keep both doors open for ventilation most of the time. Oddly enough the temperature regulation for #1 Dragon was bang on all the way through these trials,  which says a lot for the quality of these Canadian made pizza ovens.

 

I have an enormous list of things to do this weekend.  If I get through a third of it I’ll be happy.

 

 

Katie’s like GRRR

Yeah, about texting her about crap at the shop that she can’t do anything about?  Notsomuch.  Didn’t get here until really late.  Katie’s still feeling poorly.

 

I am still loving it, and it’s still a challenge.

I don’t have enough to look forward to… I think that’s my problem. But I am looking forward to having Nevada’s amazing buns to sell!  Yup, her name is Nevada. Which I love, as it means snow capped mountain.  Kinda appropriate for around these parts.

Man, I’m so glad we didn’t get that contract!

Katie’s sick with her tooth (pain swelling etc) and so did not come to work today.  Tom, may the blessings of a thousand universes brighten his life, came in and fixed the fan situation with Bertha, with the net result that airflow through the cafe as a whole is improved.

 

Then the Garland quit.  I think it’s the regulator.  All of a sudden 4 inch flames are coming out the front of it and it’s instantly red hot.  I’ve called Key Food Equipment and since I don’t have an account set up they just put $500 on my credit card and will refund me (ha!) any parts or labour not covered.  Given that their hourly is $109 I don’t imagine that down payment will last too long.  Ah, well, if it means that we can get both ovens running properly, that’s all good. It has to be serviceable for the renter anyway.

 

HOWEVER.  Tom ordered 4 dozen biscotti and I now have no place safe to cook it, or won’t until tomorrow, and I have a hard deadline of tomorrow night because they are leaving on a vacation in the morning.  They deserve it but it’s crunch time.

 

Found out that the 220 for the proofer will be a snap, it’s already plumbed in close to where it’s going.

 

The renter and Fraser Health are about to have a meeting in my shop.  It’s kind of a weird feeling.

lord love a duck

This happened mere blocks from my house.  Further to which, there will be explosions in south Burnaby tonight, but that is because they are filming a movie.

Off tonight to see the Dandy Warhols play through my fave album of theirs.

Katie  had her second last wisdom tooth out.  It came out clean as a whistle; the hard one comes later.  Right now she’s collapsed out on her bed; I went to fetch her from the dentist and she was maudlin in her gratitude.  Note to self – never have a wisdom tooth pulled out when you’re hungover.  Katie has been very abstemious of late but really decided to tie one on last night; I know why.

This next week she’ll have to be a very good girl indeed.  We’re going to be icing cookies until the end of time, by the look of things.

The famed Scandinavian practice of wife carrying comes to Burnaby.

Do want. this is a tshirt, sfw.

Do want.  And I thought I wanted a mass spectrometer, silly me.

Everytime I think the tories are going to do something good, it turns out to be fucking window dressing.

Jeff caught up to me on Life, and we are now watching it together.  There is a thing called Netflix adultery… it’s best not to cross that line. We’re looking arond for something else to watch.

And now, some capybara lovin fer me mOm.

 

 

huge catering job

We’ve been asked to quote on a thousand iced cookies for July 1.  For the opening of Edmonds Community Center.  (Cue screaming and dancing around the shop like fracking idiots.)

I opened communications with the purchaser but Katie’s totally grabbed the reins on this one, and I am tagging along with that big goofy grin that loving parents get when their kids are doing something berloody awesome.  Paul came in to grab a bowl of soup (and Katie’s Red Velvet cupcakes, which are like clouds with cream cheese icing, so fluffy and delicious ermagerd).

And I had TWO big orders of biscotti this week,  I have to do more baking tomorrow so this is me signing off and getting another batch on before we close up today.  Katie’s gone home early to try and sell Izzy.  It is sad but necessary.

So, busy, happy, and thinking holy crap, it’s ON.