Here in Canada, as I’m sure in many countries around the world, we look forward to our long weekends, especially in the summer.  We have one in each of the summer months and of course, many of us book vacation time for extra days.

The last two winters in Eastern Ontario were quite brutal, however this summer has more than made up for it.  Since June, we’ve been plagued with unusually hot and humid weather, with very little rain.  Contrary to popular belief, we do not have winter year-round! Of course, the climate varies by province and because many of the provinces are so large, it can vary greatly even from one end of the province to another.

Today is a rare, grey, misty day. As I sit outside in the covered area of my deck, my oasis, I admire the hummingbirds and various species of birds that come visit the feeders we’ve put out for them.  I cherish my view, taking time to enjoy the small things in life, the beauty of the birds, the magnificent, old apple tree in the background, the gentle sway of the outdoor curtains.

I will spend the day working on book 3, Feta and the Fat Bastard, but first, a snack. I return indoors with my laptop and grab a bottle of wine.

I’ve had this bottle on my counter for weeks now, my mouth watering each time my glance would land upon it.  The Long Weekend; a 2014 Cabernet from the Niagara peninsula.  In typical Canadian fashion, I will apologize. I’ve chosen yet another wine from the Ontario region.  In all honesty, like Amalia in the Whine & Cheese series, I choose my wines simply based on the label.  I guess we’re pretty funny folks here in Canada.

Produced by the Fielding Wine company, this red wine is described as medium-bodied, rich and flavorful. I open the bottle and take a long sniff. My mouth instantly waters.  It’s still morning—11:30 a.m. to be exact—so I only pour a couple of mouthfuls into a small glass, not even a wine glass.

I would agree with the medium-bodied description as it went down smooth, juicy, more light than medium perhaps. I could almost pretend I was having a glass of grape and raspberry juice for brunch. No after-burn, its beautiful black cherry color making me crave more. But now is not the time.

I turned my attention back to the platter of food I had prepared. I would just have a nibble and enjoy the rest later with the family.  I had been salivating in anticipation for the Garlic Cheddar cheese by the St. Albert cheese company in Ontario—one of the best cheese curd makers, I may add.

I was not disappointed. Not a crumbly, dry cheese, it was moist with a faint taste of garlic. Great on its own, though I was already imagining it melted on pasta or on some spicy tacos. My stomach growled at the thought and I reached out for a slice of fluffy French bread and a hunk of Kolbassa. I glanced sadly at my empty glass…. perhaps another small mouthful, then time to write.

For you today, I include a taste of book two.  While I enjoyed writing the first book, much of it was still a learning process and setting the scene that would take us through the series for years to come.  Book two was a lot of fun to write as I was able to concentrate more on building everyone’s characters and it was surprising, even to me, to see who would emerge as the star of each book.  The star of the second book was clearly Nora and her pig, Chicha.

R.I.P. Chicha.

Cheers, my friends.

They were still awake and watching TV in the living room as I searched the linen closet and my cat, Hummer, prowled around my feet, giving me a sniff down.  To my horror, my parents had somehow managed to find an old (and by old, I mean ancient) re-run of the Lawrence Welk show, a man who had died over twenty years ago. They seldom watched anything more modern unless it was the news, but even then, they claimed most of what was in the news was lies or half-truths.

When they asked me what I was up to, I reluctantly explained that I needed some old sheets or blankets for my friends’ pig that was staying in my garage. 

“A pig?” my dad asked. “Why you have pig? Is for eating? You vant I go getting the knife?”

“Oh no! This is a friend’s pet. Don’t you even think of cooking that pig!” Images of my childhood came flooding back, of my parents bringing home a freshly butchered pig cut down the middle and then the sight of them cutting the rest into the desired pieces and putting it in the freezer. Or the pig on the outdoor spit, roasting over flames. Okay, maybe that last part wasn’t such a bad memory. My mouth watered involuntarily. Vegetarian I am not.

“Pet? That’s stupid. Who has pig for pet?”

—Excerpt from Asiago and The Accomplice (Whine & Cheese Cozy Mystery Series)