5 th July, 2006
Selling Like Hot Cakes
by
I was off to the South Okanagan today on a selling spree. It’s been insanely hot, but we’ve had late afternoon thunderstorms, and today was no exception. When I left this morning it was cloudless, sunny and hot.
A few days ago an arm broke off my sunglasses, and I realized I’d have to make the one and a half hour drive with the one armed glasses. As I was leaving, I saw that they were on the floor in the entranceway, and Ricky was chewing the one remaining arm.
No time to waste, so I just picked up the sunglasses and put them on. Ricky had chewed off the comfy soft rubbery end, so the area directly behind my right ear was in constant irritation. After driving for about an hour, I noticed that where he’d chewed off the handle the remaining hard plastic was making a deep ridge on my left temple. Coming up to my first destination, Hawthorne Mountain Vineyards wine store in Okanagan Falls, I decided I’d have to just squint as I couldn’t talk to anyone with that imprint in my face.
Perhaps it was the Botox preventing normal squinting, but for some reason I found it extremely uncomfortable driving in the glaring sun with no sunglasses. I therefore groped around while driving, and found an old flyer, which I folded. I placed the folded flyer under the piece pressing into my head and continued to drive, quite happily. Necessity, as usual, is the mother of invention.
Hawthorne started off a happy day of sales. I continued to Tin Horn Creek Winery in Oliver, and then to the Toasted Oak Wine Store. Sales all around. Then back north to Penticton where I delivered some cakes to a very chi chi store called The Bench Artisan Fine Food Market. I returned to Kelowna feeling giddy from a day of selling Okanagan Harvest Cake(tm)s.
Arriving home I was immediately plunged into the reality of life at home, as three males looked at me with that “what’s for dinner?” look on their sad faces. As is normal when I arrive home at the same time as they do, I look at them and say “How should I know, I just got home?” Somehow, while driving, they must think I’m able to turn on the oven telepathically, and somehow make food appear in it.
Just as I was going to start in on a tirade, it started to hail. It was quite exciting, except that I was panicked that the marble sized balls would smash my dahlias to bits. Luckily, they didn’t, and so I heaved a sigh of relief, put some butter into a frying pan and proceeded to brown some chicken. High powered small business owner by day—hapless wife and mother by night.