Peachy

It’s blazing hot, and I’m baking French bread.  I’m only partly crazy because this little house keeps cool if I follow my procedures, and this morning on the bike ride we stopped at a farm selling wonderful tomatoes.  I bought some and got them home safely in the new panniers.  Now I want to cut one up, put basil and oil on it and eat it with the fresh bread.  I’m not sure how great the latter will be because I haven’t made bread in about 15 years, and the recipe I’m using is one from The Joy of Cooking that mom gave me when I got married.  I don’t think I’ve ever used that recipe before.  I had a good one that Caroline Pollock gave me, but I couldn’t find it.  Oh well.  The bread’s in the oven now and looks a bit flat, but if it even comes close to the thought that got me started on the project, I’ll be content.  I think I can afford to eat bread and olive oil because Miriam, Jane and I biked again this morning on the route that Miriam refers to as the training run, training for what I don’t know.  None of us is going on the bike camp this year.  It’s a short (19km) ride, but really hilly.  Some of the hills are the kind I like, short and steep, preceded by a bit of a downhill run, but others are long, low grinders that kill me.  What you are comes out in everything you do.  I’m gung ho for short spurts and usually lead Jane, but she never quits and grinds up the long low grades without breaking a sweat.  I can usually maintain the lead but I’m always dripping wet.  We’re the hare and the tortoise while Miriam who was a better athlete than either of us before she got Parkinson’s keeps up a good pace and pops on the motor if she has to.      

 I’m going to have to water the cedars, etc really well this evening because I haven’t watered in about 5 days.  Thunderstorms have been predicted but never materialized.  I’ve never had to pay more than the minimum water rate but in the next bill I’m sure I’ll be well over that.  I’m experiencing the true, hot, dry Okanagan summer this year.  Yesterday just walking home from the library (5 min.) I felt the sun was going to sear my back through my blouse.  On the up side, I’ve never eaten so many and such sweet juicy peaches in my life as I have in the last few weeks.  I was even moved to freeze some.  And today after our ride when we were having coffee and muffins at Marian’s, her husband brought us a bowl of huge, sweet mulberries.  I’d never had them before; they’re delicious, much better than any black berries I’ve eaten; although, they resemble them.  He even gave Jane and me each a goji berry.  I can’t rave about them, but the fact that he even has some testifies to his determination to grow things that are not usually grown in the Okanagan. 

I volunteered, along with Bill and Miriam, at the Mile High wine tasting event at Silver Star last Saturday.  The work wasn’t onerous, even the ‘spittoons’ that we had to empty were not really disgusting.  However, Bill was disappointed because last time they had been allowed to taste as they worked but this time the liquor laws were strictly enforced and we weren’t.  We did each get a bottle of Okanagan wine and a glass at the end.  I went back to their place for a dinner and tasting.  Miriam and I had each received white wines, so we chilled them in the freezer and sipped them after the meal.  They were both very good, but mine was especially fine.  It was a blended white called Harmony White from a small organic winery, Kalala Winery, in West Kelowna.  The owners are from India and the name Kalala is from her home region and means, miracle place.  Bill had read good things about their wine, and we were all happy to try it.

I don't know what this wine is like, but it reminded me of Mara Pollock because of its presentation in a high heel.  She loves shoes.  The winery is called Dirty Laundry and this white is named Secret Affair.

This is the raunchy rock and blues band that added to the atmosphere of the Mile High wine tasting evening.