Scenes From March

image courtesy Ebay

Long time, no see. March felt like it was several months long and a jumble of stuff. Let's get into it with a post that reflects that.

*I've written here before about my funny grocery store and the oddities it carries in its Closeouts section. Rick and I went grocery shopping, and I came upon a whole shelf of these. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this thing:

Pretty sure he's holding it correctly

*Another familiar theme here at the Dept. is my irritation for people who leave their outdoor Christmas decorations up far too long. Around the block from my home is this particularly egregious example. They finally took everything down a few days ago. In MARCH. 

The house is also only partially sprayed this horrific blue. You can see the spray marks about a quarter of the way across on each side.

I went by there a few days ago, and while all the Christmas crap is gone, the yeti silhouette is still there. I feel so bad for the neighbours on each side, both of whose houses are neat, tidy, and carefully landscaped (also bereft of any tardy seasonal decor or large cryptids). 

*The weather straightened itself out enough for several days in a row, long enough for my neighbour's Lenten Lilies/early daffodils to come out along my driveway. They never venture to that side of their home, so I don't feel guilty at all each year when I cut them and bring them in to brighten my mood.

And I'm going to keep cutting them, too!

Later, there will be garlic to harvest from that side, too, planted ages ago by the previous owner. My own daffodils are starting to bloom now; I couldn't be happier.

*Ever since we had to say goodbye to Marlowe, her brother's personality has undergone a transformation. Piper used to never say much of anything, and now we can't get him to shut up. He's also become demanding about many things, such as requiring ice in his water and a tablespoon full of my half-and-half when I make my coffee. Because of his advanced age (16) and...er...size, he also refuses to jump or climb up to be on my lap; rather, he howls until I pick him up and put him there. So many things meet with his disapproval, and I constantly hear about each and every one of them. This is the evildoer I am speaking of:

Luckily, he is quite affable around Theo, whose toys you see in the background

Did I unwittingly help create this monster? Yes. Yes I did, so please learn from my mistakes and give your pet no special treatment whatsoever else they come to expect it.

*I caught sight of this in a residential yard in my neighbourhood. I had to stop and take a photo. To me, it is the perfect symbol of present times in this country, about which I could easily write a thousand words expressing my dismay, outrage, and profound sadness. Instead, I'll let this say it all:

The stars are merely star-shaped holes. Vote blue!

*Finally, today I watched a very determined mother intent upon protecting her baby. I took a short video and want to share it with you here:

This mother squirrel carried her two kits across the street, one at a time, and no farther than 6 feet away from me. She carried them right past me and up the driveway, and past Rick who was working noisily on the lawnmower. Her final destination was a huge sycamore tree behind our neighbour's home, which has an opening in its trunk. I was able to catch a bit of footage of her second trip. The video is not terrific, but it does have a few dramatic seconds at the end--of the stamped concrete of my patio when I, completely astonished, forgot to shut off my phone. 

Because of her amazing feat, I have vowed to stop shooing squirrels away from my blue jay feeder on the porch. Let them eat peanuts! That squirrel mom is a hero (as are so many Mothers and Women, unsung though they may be). 

Happy Springtime, my friends. It's showing signs now of its green and blooming presence, and we certainly deserve it. 

Take A Load Off Your Brain: Visit My Grocery Store And Get A Music Lesson

 

Sometimes, you just need a Diversion--a Respite from all the strenuous gasping and concern and metaphorical hand-wringing brought to us by the agents of chaos that we, The Sane Ones, did NOT elect. I'm hoping this brief post provides a bit of that.

~*~My Grocery Store, Soon To Have Its Own Special On HBO:

These are actual photos taken by Me of actual signs in my funny grocery store's Closeouts Section. I hope it never, ever changes.

If you cannot see it, the sign says SEQUENCE DRESSES $2.99

You can see what a HOT DEAL these Fabric Lanters are. Or are they Fabric Lantens? 

Do you have five bucks lying around? You can score a set of Blue tooth Earbubs made by Sentry. Or maybe they're a Blue tooth Earbubs Sentry (although I'm not sure what that would be). Either way, a Hot Deal! And NEW!

Listen, I'm still wearing the cute denim sneakers I got there three years ago for $3.99. Their signs may be awful, but the Closeouts department has great stuff, usually Target merch.

~*~Mom Goes To Music School

 Last week, Maya wrote about talking music with her teen. Well, my two sons are way past being teens, but I had my own conversation over text with them about music last week, too. Rick and I were in the car, and Lose Yourself by Eminem came up on my playlist. (I love this song.) I got curious about its genre, so I texted Jared and Sam:

                                                   

*Fetter is Jared's nickname for Sam, after the hip hop artist Fetty Wap. Not sure how it came about.

Let me tell you, I listen to a LOT of hip hop on the boat when the boys come to the lake. A. LOT. Theo dances to all of it. And just a heads up, if you haven't already, don't watch the video to the song Knife Talk. It's...really disturbing in a crazy, avant garde sort of way. 

~*~

"These are the times that try men's souls," Thomas Paine wrote in 1776. "Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph." Resistance is not futile. What we say and what we do matters. Every act of Kindness is a defiance. Paine also reminds us that, "'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death." 

Resist.

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Wednesday: Weather, Work, And The Wonderful World Of Peanuts

Wednesday morning was cold, grey, and threatening rain. Our forecast looked bleak and foreboding:  more high winds and heavy rain showers were on the way, and we were under a flood watch. When Rick left early for the gym, I grabbed my grocery list and headed out for the store. If I didn't dawdle, I might beat the rain entirely.

Because there weren't too many items on my list, I was able to get through the store in pretty good time. I did have a brief and spirited discussion with a gentleman as I grabbed a bag of raw peanuts in the shell. He wondered why I liked raw peanuts, and I explained that I buy them not for myself, but for the blue jays. "But how do they eat them? Do they bust them out of the shell or eat the shell or what?" he asked, fascinated. I told him, and he was astonished. "I been buying birds the jars of shelled peanuts, and now you tell me I coulda been buying these bags? They's so much cheaper!" 

I didn't have the heart to tell him that, all along, he also could have been buying three-pound bags of shelled, raw peanuts in the bird food aisle up front. Who knows how he'd have taken the news?

Only two cashiers were available this early in the morning, and I didn't know either of them. That's been the rule more than the exception lately. And the employees in general have gotten older. The woman who rang me up was probably in her late 50s/early 60s.

She was pleasant and efficient. "Let me wrap up that meat in a plastic bag before you put it in your bag," she said. "I don't want it to leak, possibly. I used to work in food service, and that has stayed with me."

In the course of me bagging my groceries in my reusable bags, I learned that she:

*was a manager then regional manager for Taco Bell and took many food safety/food science courses

*left that to work in health care and then took care of her husband who had cancer and early-onset Alzheimer's

*worked in various retail jobs and in the service industry

"You've really had a varied career," I said, "and in each job you've had, you really relied on your basic skill set, being organized, efficient, and good at working with people."

"Well, except for working with teenagers when I was their manager," she said. "That about drove me crazy."

I smiled. "I was a high school teacher for 30 years," I said. "I loved it. I love teenagers."

"Oh wow," she said. "You win!"

******

I wasn't thinking about my victory on my way home--I wasn't even aware there had been a competition. Instead, I started thinking about all the jobs I've had and how, perhaps, they've had an impact on me. Here's a list of all the jobs I've had, paid and unpaid, since I started working, starting with babysitting.

1. Babysitting

2. Paper Route

3. Reading Tutor

4. Catechism Teacher

5. Bank Teller

6. Pet Department Clerk

7. Warehouse Worker

8. Substitute Teacher

9. Teacher

10. Freelance Writer/Editor

I do think the majority of these have influenced me, and I have lots of memories--good and bad--about all of them. Maybe I'll write about several of them in subsequent blog posts. Some of you may be curious about #4. (I still can't believe that one myself.)

Is your list of jobs a long one or short? Do you find yourself in conversation in the grocery store? Is there a job that you miss?

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Shopping My Way To Sainthood: My Husband Needed New Sneakers

 

Wow. These photographed
way better than they actually look

Rick and I went on a trek to find him a new pair of tennis shoes. If you think this sounds--for me--like A) fun; B) no big deal; C) one of those simple Guy Errands; or D) absolutely no cause for Deep Breathing or Xanax, you'd be wronger than wrong. Whereas I approach shoe shopping with Joy and Glee and a sense of Wonder, hoping to be Surprised and Delighted, my husband has a different expectation. 

As in, he expects to walk into any shoe store and see THE EXACT SAME SHOE HE HAS BEEN WEARING FOR ONE HUNDRED YEARS sitting there, waiting for him. In his size. So that he can merely stride purposefully over to it, procure it, and take it to the cashier, where he will pay pretty much what he paid for it the first time he bought it. 

The. End.

I have no idea where this Fantasy originated. This has never, ever been his experience that I know of. As a matter of fact, I have accompanied him on his shoe shopping quests since before we were married, lo these past 45 years. His shoe shopping habits are so frustrating for the both of us that I often buy him shoes for gift-giving occasions.

Rick's requirements for The Perfect Tennis Shoe are:  absolutely all white; no ostentatious logo; no cloth; if there are ventilation holes, they must not be too numerous; the sole cannot be too clunky or chunky; no Nikes (they do not accommodate his very high arch); he prefers K-Swiss, but they no longer make the ones he used to wear; no high-tops.

The last time I bought him The Perfect K-Swiss Shoes, I bought two pairs. It was, I must say, A Genius Move. Except for the fact that he got far too attached, obviously, and now here we are. 

We went to four stores. I did not look at a single pair for myself (it must be said). I was Gentle, Kind, Patient, and Helpful. I did not roll my eyes one single time, even when he couldn't see me. I did not make any menacing movements behind his back or stick my tongue out at him when his head was turned. I didn't even show him really ugly shoes while pretending I thought they were nice. I was, in a word, Perfect.

Here are the shoes Rick finally chose. There was a lot of concern about that flashy air cushion thingy that's visible mid-sole. It is not optimal, and was--briefly--a sticking point. I sort of wandered away and let him decide while I did some deep breathing and thought about Theo being a cow for Halloween.

You can order this shoe here rather than wander all over two counties.

Only when I saw him give the cashier his credit card did I walk up to the counter and witness the end of our quest. "Yay!" I said, smiling and cheery. "That's accomplished! How do you feel about it?" 

"I'm just glad that's done and off my list," he said. 

The Big Question now is when will he wear them? There is always a Transitional Phase wherein the new shoes are slowly phased in, worn only for certain things, and the old shoes continue to be the main shoes. Eventually, the new shoes are pressed into more service, and the old shoes are relegated to lawn mowing, basement work, or get taken to the lake for jobs around there. This could take months (and all of my Patience). It reminds me of this story about his wallet.

My sons are more like me when it comes to shoes. Sam is a sneakerhead; his collection of sneakers is vast and eclectic. Jared loves shoes, the more unusual the better; the shoes he chose for his wedding were fantastic (so were Sam's). I want very much to believe that this sort of thing is not exclusive to my husband. Tell me in Comments if any of the Men In Your Life have a Shopping/Fashion Quirk. Failing that, you can pat me on the back for my Patience.

Is It Women? Is It Marshalls? Is It Cellphones? What's Ruining America?

Over the years here at the Dept.,  I've written many posts about the Casualization Of America. I've lamented Khaki Pants, men wearing baseball hats everywhere but baseball games, and the godforsaken crocs and jammies in public. I've sighed about people wearing flipflops to restaurants and flipflopping their detritus upward toward everyone's food. I've tried to be a Good Sport about all of this; truly I have. My eye-rolling has diminished by a good 70% or more as I've aged and learned to Let Go and understand that there are things far more worthy of my distress.

Like what I keep encountering when I shop for a shirt at Marshalls.

Every once in a while, I get sick of my clothes and pull stuff off of hangers and out of drawers to put in a donation bag. It's usually items that I realize I've stopped wearing or that I haven't seen in a long time. Once that's done, I see that I need a couple of things to fill a gap in the wardrobe. Marshalls is across from my grocery store, so it's a convenient trip.

Anyway, my point--and I do have one--is that I don't like what keeps happening when I shop at Marshalls, and it's women who are doing it.

The last time I was there, a woman was on her cellphone in the racks across from me. "So it was just so weird," she said. "I got him up, and he was perfectly fine at first. Then he started sort of spinning--literally--out of control. I got him settled down, gave him his meds, fed him, and he seemed okay. Then he started the spinning thing again. I didn't know what to do. I'm like, do I just go ahead and send him to school or what? So I put him in the car and take him, and I tell his teacher everything and she says she'll keep me informed."

At this point I started feeling a little uncomfortable. Clearly, she's talking about a special needs child. It felt like something I shouldn't be privy to, but here I was, in a store, looking for a sweater that wouldn't show a lot of cat hair. What was I supposed to do?

"Well, I'm just shopping right now," she continued. "I'm sort of waiting to hear. She didn't seem too concerned. I just wonder how much of it is diet, how much of it is environment, how much is you know..." I casually looked in her direction, just in case she wasn't aware that there was someone else so close. She barely looked at me and continued talking in the same volume, as if she were speaking to someone who was standing next to her and about something as mundane as the placement of buttons on the shirt she was looking at. 

I wasn't too surprised. The last time I was at Marshalls I heard a woman on her cell tell someone about her daughter's MS diagnosis and her entire consult with the specialist. This woman didn't think much of the doctor, by the way, and she felt that the way he was going about things was totally wrong. If it were up to her, she'd leave that practice entirely and go with Cleveland Clinic all the way. This guy had zero idea what he was doing. But her daughter was grown and engaged to be married, for heaven's sakes, so all she could do was be there for her, but if you ask her, she really needed to see someone better.

Anyway, the woman with the spinning child wandered off to look at makeup, and I decided to look in Shoes for a pair of winter boots. Suddenly, I heard a woman tell me, "You shut up! Shut. Up. Right. Now." She had to be talking to me--even though I had yet to say a single word--because I was the only person in Shoes besides her. My eyes widened and teared involuntarily. I was almost afraid to move for a moment. Then I saw her. She came around the corner and suddenly started laughing. "Oh god! You have got to be kidding me! Shut it! You're sick!" She barely glanced at me and pushed her cart down the next aisle. 

Who in the hell are these women who A) cannot modulate their voices if they must be on a phone; B) must be on a phone call whilst shopping; C) don't care if they blab their/their family's personal medical conditions in public; D) have so little concern/awareness for Common Human Courtesy and Basic Manners that they do this in the first place? We have become a nation of crass and selfish idiots.

People like this have already ruined Going To The Movies for me. I haven't seen a film at the theater since Lincoln with Daniel Day-Lewis. Even the Tuesday afternoon showings were full of people using their phones during the film, talking during the film, and being inconsiderate in general. It's a Sadness that so many people simply act as if they are in their own living rooms when they are out in public, and this cuts across all age groups. "If you have a problem with it, then stay home" seems to be their attitude. 

Kindness Is My Default has been my mantra for years and years, and it will remain so. I will continue to work on my Patience.  

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My World Today

 

I'm so late with a post today, and honestly, I don't have much to say about anything. It's important to me to fulfill my promise to myself and write here every day this month, however, so here we go.

*Haircut!  Susie called me back this morning and booked me in at 3:15 today. The drive was actually pleasant with no traffic. I saw a brand new herd of cows in a field where I had never seen any before. This time I dropped 20 bucks at Susie's. She gave me an eyebrow wax, too. 

*There's a house two blocks away from mine that decorated for Halloween in late August. They draped spider webs across their bushes, hung bats on their doors and windows, and set out both carved and painted pumpkins. Other houses started fairly early, too. By the time October came around, I started getting disoriented. Had I missed Halloween? Why was it taking so long? Last week, they started decorating for Christmas. Along with their Halloween decor. So amid the bats and webs and rotten/rotting pumpkins are a shiny Santa and Christmas tree on shepherd hooks and some garland. It's like a Holiday Yard Sale.

*I'm going to the grocery store tomorrow morning. I can either drive to the slightly nicer store about 10 miles away, or I can zip over to the okay store across town. The nicer store has better produce and I know and like the cashiers. The okay store is closer and I know the floor people. It also has a better closeouts selection. It's a decision I make on the road, totally dependent upon how I feel at that precise moment. (Do I feel like slumming, or do I feel like hobnobbing with the hoity toity?)

That's a glimpse into my world for now.  (It's way past time for cat cuddling, and Piper just let me know by forcing his enormous body between me and my laptop. He almost made me lose this entire post by kicking his back paws at my keyboard to shove it out of the way.  Priorities!)

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Do You See This?

Sometimes when I go shopping, I wonder if I'm the only one who sees stuff like this. I also wonder if employees put these things out on the shelves just for fun. I mean, everyone deserves to get their kicks during the workday.

Here's this, from Closeouts in my funny grocery store:

Okay. I'm not exactly sure what this is, but I can positively say that it is NOT a Trio Of Li'l Mice. 

And then I saw this Bargain at Marshalls on Clearance:

Hey! I'm sorry, but since you waited so long to buy this Italian Macaroni Product Made In Italy--and that's not redundant at all--you now pay the Special Clearance Price, marked down up to $5.00. You know what they say, "He who hesitates...yada yada yada."

And, no, I didn't buy either one of them.

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Cloudy, With A Chance Of Cats And Self-Checkout (We're #4/5!)

 

Today it's Novembering all over the place outside and I'm feeling chilly and a little bit fussy. It's grey, windy, we had a little rain, and even though the thermometer jumped up to 55 at about 3:00, it feels much colder. My head is threatening to start something with me, so I'm hydrating and preparing to take a migraine pill if necessary.

I already went to the grocery store this morning, where I noted with dismay that they installed brand new Self Checkout stations. One of the many reasons I love my odd little grocery store is that there were no Self Checkouts. All purchases were scanned and totalled by friendly (and sometimes quirky) cashiers, many of whom I've gotten to know pretty well. The chances of me using Self Checkout there are slim:  too many items in my weekly shop, and I'd miss talking with Sunshine and the other cashiers.

When I got home, the little black cat was curled up under our Japanese maple again. We have a lot of strays in our neighborhood, especially at this time of year, and for some reason, they love our back yard. And they're all gorgeous cats, too--certainly worthy of being someone's pampered pet. This one is a longhaired cat, black with coppery colour hair underneath and beautiful amber eyes. When our porch furniture was out, it often slept curled up on a cushion.

So sweet; it fits just right.

I spend a lot of time worrying about this cat, but I cannot begin taking care of it. I have two cats, and they are The Last Cats Forever. I have sworn A Sacred Oath to myself and Rick. And all dark-coloured clothing and all the stuff in my house that is continually covered in cat hair. Besides, it may very well be that it is already Someone Else's Cat, but they allow it to run amok. I wish they wouldn't; I feed birds in my yard, and this cat cannot be depended upon to only menace chipmunks.

Anyway.

It is not a hospitable day for me or for little black stray cats that I have named Nairobi in my head. 

Is it Novembering where you are? Do you have stray cats in your neighborhood? Don't you think stores should give you a percentage off your groceries for using Self Checkout?

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Another Grocery Store Outrage: Move Over, Bananas

Of course you all remember how invested I get in the price of things at my grocery store, especially bananas. Since I'm not on anxiety medications, I've had to learn to roll with the capricious price increases foisted upon us by the pandemic and corporate greed.

I will say, however, that there is NO REASON for coffee to be as high-priced as it is. I have been monitoring the commodities markets, and coffee has done nothing but slide for the past year.

Just saying.

Anyway, my point, and I do have one, is this. 

I am breaking up with you, Biscoff.

This is outrageous and unreasonable, and I am not having it. Do you know what I used to pay for Biscoff cookies when I first discovered them? $1.98 a package. That was about one year ago. Then, sometime in the spring, my funny grocery store stopped carrying them. I subsequently found them at Target for $2.99 a package--and of course I was outraged--but I paid it (many many times), mainly because Rick discovered Biscoff and would polish off a package in one sitting. 

Suddenly, Biscoff disappeared completely. For months. When it reappeared, the price had shot up to what you see, above. I shopped around, but Biscoff was now ridiculously priced everywhere. So I did what I always do; I researched it. And here's what I found:

"'Responsible' price hikes and rising volumes earned Lotus Bakeries new record figures: for the first time, the Belgian company’s turnover surpasses half a billion euros in the first six months of a year. With turnover up more than 20 % to 501 million euros in the first half of the year, Lotus Bakeries speaks of a “new milestone”. ..Biscoff biscuits (+ 20 %)...advanced strongly. Net profit went up 15.9 %. The figures are better than what analysts had expected.

According to the biscuit baker, the strong results came as “responsible” price increases combined with an 8 % increase in volumes. The tariff increases the company implemented early this year to counter rising costs led to a double-digit price effect. Lotus Bakeries stresses that the price increases over the past two years were always aligned with actual costs, and were unavoidable due to unprecedented increases for raw materials, packaging, transport and wages, among others. The company claims that the price effect has now reached its peak."

Well, la di da, Biscoff people. Whatever. 

I'm just now okay with being gouged for bananas. I'm not okay with being gouged for cookies, even if they're as delightful as Biscoff. This is going to take some time, and maybe Forever. Breakups are painful and sad. It's a Process, and in the meantime, I need a Rebound Cookie. And some Support Outrage. 

Help me out in Comments.

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7 Samples Of My Summer So Far

 

Rather than run through a litany of excuses for my absence here of late, I'd rather jump right in and go for it. 

1. Random Photos--Signs: 

I ran across this first one on my way to pick up my mother for a doctor's appointment. Unlike the hostas, the cannas must be there of their own free will.

This is a front porch I pass on my daily walk. I keep imagining someone standing in front of their door, deciding whether or not to knock.

2. Random Photo--Grocery Store Find:  My funny grocery store has this on offer, and it's awful. 

Obviously, the reason this ended up in the Closeouts section of my grocery store is because it's supposed to read MOM IS WAY MORE FUN NOW THAT SHE CAN DRINK AGAIN. Because of the typo, it sounds really inebriated and illiterate, and no one is buying it. (I don't buy stemless wine glasses, period, but that's beside the point here.)

3. Speaking of Wine:  We had a jaunt up to Canada earlier this month and enjoyed another lovely long weekend and a new release party at our favourite winery. Our cellar is restocked and so is our Good Humour. The trip came at a very good time for us both, and we were so glad to reconnect with friends and places we love.

4.  Places We Love:  Lake season is in full swing, and we had a terrific Memorial Day weekend with the whole family, enjoying the boat, the house, fishing, and a fire. On Sunday we all went to dinner to celebrate the Springtime Birthdays at our favourite restaurant, which was a longtime desire of mine. It was such a Joy to see everyone around the table, having such a great time.

5.  Good Times:  The Asian Tree Lilacs are in bloom all along my walking route, and their scent is heavenly. Several years ago, our neighborhood streets were completely torn up with a major water/sewer project. So many mature silver maples were destroyed. But they were replaced with oaks and Asian Tree Lilacs, and I am grateful.  The blue jays continue to patronize my breakfast buffet, holding my cats in thrall every morning. I put a few peanuts on the window sashes and even on the welcome mat so that the jays come very close. 

6.  Knitting Stuff:  For my Knitting Friends--I finally got all those damn ends woven in on my mitred square blanket, and I knitted the last two squares. Hooray! It's kind of a  skinny-looking blanket, and it could really use at least one or two more rows, but not anytime soon. I'm now knitting a baby blanket. The pattern instructed me to do a long-tail cast on, but I hate those and avoid them at all costs. (123 stitches--nope.)  Instead, I did a knitted cast on. Will it matter? I'm thinking no, just for a baby blanket.

7.  Things That Matter:  Years ago, this was a far more Political blog. I am still very politically aware and active; make no mistake about that. My Politics have not changed in the least. I did, however, have to make a conscious decision to draw a bright line, keeping certain parts of my life free from politics so that I have more stress-free zones.  Don't mistake that for tolerance or acceptance. I'm sure so many of you are the same. 

At this point in June, way back when I was teaching, Summer still felt so young and new to me. Vacation was just starting, and I was energized by the possibilities of the weeks ahead:  so many books to read! so much time unpunctuated by bells and demands! so many evenings unencumbred by papers to grade and lessons to prepare and phone calls to make! Summertime felt brilliant and potent; each day was like a gift to be unwrapped. 

I hope your Summertime (one of my favourite words ever) feels like that, even a little bit, every now and then. 

Thanks for being here and waiting for me (like Walt Whitman). Chat me up in Comments.

Here's Some Stuff From My Head: More Dogs, A Racy Sign, and My Cheap Thrill

 

I'm just going to jump right in with some falderal since it's been so long and I still don't have anything of Momentous Importance to pontificate upon. 

At least that I feel like discussing at the moment. Certainly many weighty things exist Out There that I could get all Wound Up about, but no one wants that, least of all me.

Onward.

1.  I have met the following New Dogs since last we chatted:  a teensy terrier mix puppy named Rue; a floofy husky named Sterling; a black standard poodle named Molly. Only Molly was barky and slightly rude. This is the usual Poodle Response toward me, so I didn't take offense. 

2.  At my Super Fun Grocery Store, they had a huge paint buyout in the Closeouts Department. But even better, they made this sign:

If this sign were in any other store I went to, I'd be completely annoyed and rail about it to my husband and everyone I know. But because it is in my grocery store, I can merely laugh and be indulgently amused, like parents are when their kids mispronounce words in a cute way. ("Did you hear that? She said cabrella for umbrella! How adorable.") Probably if I saw this in, say, Lowe's, I'd be outraged and complain about it for days. ("How many staff and management pass by that sign every single day and no one has noticed or bothered to correct it!? How ridiculous.") I can't wait to see if it's still there this week.

3. It's no secret that I am easily entertained, and one thing that never fails to do it for me is the automatic carwash. There's just something about sitting in your car in the dark and having all that water and suds and those brush rollers all over while your car moves all by itself through the building. I love it. I used to take Jared and Sam through one all the time during our summer vacation. When Sam used to work at a dealership in the area, he knew that taking me through their carwash would make me happy, so he did it often. Now, carwashes are pricey. Back a hundred years ago, I paid four bucks for a wash. Not anymore. But I treated myself and got an actual Carwash Membership (and not solely for the fun of it; I have a black car, and I hate how dirty it gets and how bad it looks when it does). 

I go to a Mod Wash that's on my way to my mother's place and my grocery store. I can go every single day if I want (I don't), and it's like unlimited free rides at an amusement park for me. Today I got one of their free air fresheners, which smells like the worst fruit bubblegum on steroids, so I won't be using it, but when I flipped it to the other side, I saw that it was more than just an air freshener. Here's what it said:

Thank you, Mod Wash! I needed to hear that today, a day when I am running on very little sleep, thanks to shitful cat behaviour all night and a pulled muscle in my back. Not only do you make me unreasonably lighthearted, but you remind me that I've Got This! (As long as I don't put your freshener on painted, plastic, or varnished surfaces, or mind if my car smells like 1977.) 

It's the little things, you know? Regale me with your car wash feelings and anything else in Comments.

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Catching Up Old-Style

 

Oh, hello. 

It seems we have some Catching Up to do. Let's get started.

*I Am Old And They Are Liars:  For 30+ years I wore high heels with pointy toes for 8 hours a day. My students and my colleagues appreciated (and envied) my shoe wardrobe. I seldom wore flats or sneakers, ever, even in my off hours. Fast forward to now, 12 years later:  I wear flat shoes with good support and a wide toe box like all the Experts recommend in order to Take Good Care Of My Feet. And for the First Time Ever I had to buy a corn removal product at the grocery store like an old person. Adding to my outrage was the fact that I had no one tangible upon which to focus my anger and resentment. How I'd love to go back to wearing my wonderful, beautiful career shoes in some audacious display of self-righteousness! Alas, however, I'd look ridiculous since I am constantly in leggings, skinny jeans, and comfy shirts.

*Am I Old Or Not And What Is She Trying To Say?  I've written here before about my funny grocery store and its astonishing Closeouts section where customers can buy anything from a Ben Franklin bobblehead to Subway restaurant visors to a bathroom vanity cabinet (no top). A couple weeks ago, I found a New York Times page-a-day crossword 2023 calendar for 25 cents. It also includes a free one month subscription to NYT Games. I grabbed it immediately. My favourite cashier, Sunshine, was ringing me out and she couldn't get over the price. "This is 25 cents?!" she said. "That's crazy!" I was bagging my stuff (reusable bags, of course) and agreed, "Right? I stood there for a minute trying to think of anyone else I could buy one for. It's such a great deal." Sunshine unintentionally clouded my skies with this remark, "Well, any old person, really, would love it." Thank goodness this was not the same day I had to buy my corn pads, or I probably would have smacked her.

*Speaking Of Old People, This Weather Alert From My Mother, Age 92:  Here in NEO, we've had an extremely mild winter. As in, I've only shovelled snow once SO FAR. Oh, we've had a bit of snow here and there, but nowhere near where we normally would be.   Nowhere near. And I've seen lots of robins around, along with my daffodils poking up several inches and the silver maples already budding red and getting their fringe. This, according to my mother, is Bad. "It's not good for this area of the country not to have snow this time of year. It's not good for the trees or the birds or anyone else. It's bad; it's not natural." I'm sure you all remember her Dire Warnings back in October of a Hard Winter. True, we still have March and at least part of April to go. And we did have a nasty snowstorm in May that broke down so many lovely blooming crabapples. But right now, I'm inclined to say YOU BLEW IT AGAIN, MOM.

*But Some Things Never Get Old:  I'm still taking tremendous satisfaction from quite a few Simple things, like my daily walks, which are full of happy encounters with neighborhood dogs; reading good books, most recently The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams (highly recommended for any lover of words); a hot cup of coffee and Biscoff in the afternoons while watching Judge Judy or, more recently, Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee with Jerry Seinfeld. (The latter is a show on Netflix which I'm completely charmed by. I love hearing people talk passionately about their work, and I love listening to the perspectives of these comedians--how they see things so differently from the rest of us.) And I find constant Joy in our family group text. I'm crazy about my kids; there, I said it.

How are you feeling about your age these days? Lied to? Almost insulted? Silly? Grateful? Thanks for waiting, and chat me up in Comments.

Look What I Found!

 Quite unintentionally, I found some fun stuff last week. Now you get to look at it, too.

I have a terribly sad history with Cheetos. In 2003 I had to break up with them after they turned on me in a gastric episode that stays with me still. When I saw this bag of Lay's Cheeto flavoured potato chips, I literally did a double-take. Then I stood there, trying to decide whether to take the risk and try them. The amount of hemming and hawing I did was ridiculous and pathetic. I'm sure that someone saw me and commented about it on their Twitter account: Some crazy woman is mesmerized by the new cheeto lays chips. Shoot me if I ever get that enthralled by snacks.

Anyway, I bought them (of course I did) and we tried them. 

Meh. 

And they ended up making me a little bit nauseated, so Cheetos--we're still broken up after all.

Spiders, especially the daddy longlegs kind, and spider webs are the bane of my existence at the lake. Every weekend I'm trying to get rid of the damn things in every conceivable nook and cranny. I found this duster at my goofy grocery store and bought it. It's on a nice long handle. I took it and my groceries up to the cashier, a diminutive elderly man with an impeccable haircut.

Cashier:  Wow, look at that thing!

Me:  I know. It's ridiculous.

Cashier: They should have put trump's picture on it.

Me:  Ugh. Then I wouldn't have bought it.

Cashier: (fixing me with a keen look) Oh sure you would. 

Me: Oh, so I'd have the pleasure of getting him all dirty? Yeah, maybe so!

Cashier:  What a crook! You know, my wife is the most laid-back, gentle person. But any time she hears his name, she goes off. That guy...what a jerk. What a crook.

(Woman behind me laughs and nods)

Me:  I couldn't agree more. 

Finally, I found this treasure in my Cleveland Plain Dealer over the weekend. Yes, it's rife with grammatical errors, but that's not my favourite thing about it. I know once you read it, you'll be as delighted as I am with what you find. 

I certainly hope you are similarly Up To Date and feeling fine because of it. Regularity is often something for which to be Thankful, is it not? 

Enjoy your week, and I hope you find things to brighten it up. Talk to me about Finds in Comments.

When I Went Bananas And Took My BFF And Rick With Me (And A Little Politics)

 

It's back to the Bananas War with me again. Devoted readers will recall that, back in April 2021, I introduced you to my Ongoing Outrage at the price of Bananas at my funny grocery store. I continue to not only fuss about the Banana Fee, but I also faithfully text a photo of the sign (and price) to my BFF Leanne in Maryland. 

I know she appreciates these Vital Bulletins and that they enrich her life immeasurably.

Not so long ago, it pained me to have to send this message to Leanne:

(That is not, by the way, a photo of Leanne. That is a picture of her Boston terrier, Stella.) And I truly did not buy the wretched BananaS.

The following week I went to a different town so that I could shop the same store and avoid the dumb spelling of BananaS. They were still 59 cents a pound, but I took it as a win.

Soon after, Rick had a day off, and he accompanied me to the grocery store in town. He is brave and tall, so this happened:

(Sadly, I did not have a red pen, but Rick pulled down both signs--one from each side--so that I could make the necessary correction to both:  no apostrophe for plurals!) I felt victorious and overflowing  with relief. The whole world seemed somehow righted. I smiled and felt...lighter. I didn't even mind paying 59 cents a pound for BananaS.

The following week I strode confidently to the produce department. I looked up at the sign for BananaS and was rewarded tenfold. I couldn't wait to text Leanne!

Indeed. I may be retired, but I am still Out There, Defending And Promoting The Language. Teaching In The Wild, as it were. It never stops, you know. 

Until it does.

Because here's what I found the last time I went to the grocery store.

Bless her. We have a motto, Leanne and I. Everything crummy can eventually be traced back to the republicans. And she can always make me laugh.

Want to give it a try, tracing this Sign Saga back to republicans? Do you have a BananaS Story to share? Have you ever corrected a sign? Can you relate to my Pain or are you the Leanne in this story?

Or, just natter away in Comments about the Silliness Of It All.

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C Is For Candy Dish

Don't let my Banana story lead you to believe that I am a Joyless Crabass when I go grocery shopping. I am not, truly. I love my funny grocery store where I not only buy groceries, but occasionally, thanks to the Closeouts section, come home with things like socks, shoes, cute shirts for the little granddaughter, mattress pads, lawn furniture, and--if I wanted to--a rabbit hutch or a pet staircase or a futon. 

Someday, I'll show up and there will be cars for sale there, and I won't be one bit surprised.

But I digress.

A few months ago they set up a display of candies for three bucks a bag. Thankfully, none of it is candy that I like, but there are several varieties that Rick really likes. He has a weakness for any gumdrop sort of candy, due in large part to his late grandparents. They kept a ready supply in a charming little crock marked For Grandchildren Only, or something like that. It was usually full of spice drops, those wee little multicoloured gumdrops in flavours like clove, cinnamon, spearmint, and whatever the white ones are supposed to taste of.

I love surprising Rick with little treats that he loves. I bought a couple of bags of candy for him and fished out a suitable Candy Dish, after much careful deliberation.

Put the candy in a flat dish, and the sugar will be all over the place as he scoops them out. One with a lid? That lid will never be put back on the dish. A deep bowl? He'll eat them all in one sitting, no problem.

Here's what I came up with:

This was full to the brim the day before

It's like one of those puzzle toys for dogs or cats who eat their food too fast. He can't fit his whole big hand into it all at once. He can't grab a huge handful and still get his fingers out of the dish. You can see there is some sugar on the end table, but not very much. 

However, Success is limited. Rick will eat from the Candy Dish instead of having an actual lunch. He'll eat half the candy in the dish after dinner and then berate himself about eating all that candy. We've had several Adult Discussions about it:

Nance:  I was under the impression that you were a grownup and could control yourself with a Candy Dish next to your chair.

Rick:  And I was under the impression that I was a grownup and could eat what I want.

Sigh.

He's really ruining the Fun, Loving Thoughtfulness behind the whole thing for me.  

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B Is For Bananas (And My Belligerence About Produce In General)

A great deal of advice exists about Food Shopping. Don't go to the grocery store hungry! Shop the perimeter of the store! Stock up on great deals on meat and nonperishables! Honestly, I ignore all that. I find that I have my own Internal Rules about Food Shopping, and most of them can be distilled to these two:

1. I'm not paying that; they're crazy.

2. I will buy this no matter what it costs.

Produce falls into the #1 category constantly. I am weekly dismayed at the price of some items of produce, and will happily (but begrudgingly) do without until Those People come to their senses. If They think I am okay paying $1.50 for a single English cucumber, They are insane. That is Madness. Likewise, my threshhold for a bunch of broccoli is $2.50, but it had better be some damn goodlooking broccoli. And do not get me started about mushrooms or avocados. I'll need medication.

Pretty much every week, I snap a photo of the sign overhanging the tableau of Bananas and send it to my friend Leanne in southern Maryland, who never looks at prices and simply buys whatever she wants from Peapod, the online grocery service. Or sends her saintly husband Jim to the store for this and that. They buy Bananas weekly, and I often fuss via text message about how the price continues to go up on Bananas here. Here is today's sign:

Good heavens! I remember not so long ago when Bananas were 39 cents a pound. Then they went up to 47 cents a pound. Each time, I communicated my outrage to Leanne. "We just paid 98 cents a pound," she said airily. "That is criminal," I texted back. "No way in hell I'd ever pay that. You're being robbed." Ever philosophical, she replied, "But we don't have snow here."

Which made me wonder, would I trade better weather if it meant higher-priced produce? 

For those of you who wonder about my Grocery Rule #2:  I will buy this no matter what it costs, that is reserved for things for which there is no substitute, such as certain wines, Hellman's mayonnaise, Philadelphia cream cheese, Heinz ketchup, Campbell's tomato soup, Old Bay seasoning, and such things. You have things like that, too, I know. Store brands or other labels will simply not do. 

I haven't bought Bananas in a couple of months. I am resentful about how fast they become overripe, no matter how many tricks I use. I've also developed a particularly bad habit of craving peanut butter with my Banana, and we all know how irresponsible I am with peanut butter. 

 And I'm not caving in to Them and paying Their heinous high prices. It's flagrant Produce Profiteering, that's what it is, and I'm not going for it. 

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TGIF: The Pandemic, Political, Procrastinating, Polar Edition

It felt so strange to be away from writing every day! I think I'm having a sort of Withdrawal. In order to combat that, I thought I'd pop in for a quick post, a little TGIF nattering.

T:  Time.  As in, I am wasting a lot of it lately. My mornings especially have become like slowly spreading puddles of molasses as one hour flows into the next, with me in my robe and jammies, comfortably cozied on the couch or in my big chair. I sip my coffee (sometimes flavoured with various spices I toss in), read my paper and blogs, and lately, shop for Christmas presents online. Each hour, I say, "Eight o' clock is my Go Time," then "Nine o' clock is my Go Time," then "Ten o'clock is my Go Time," and on and on. Today, it seems as if Noon is my Go Time. Sigh.

G: Gobsmacked. Here is a picture of me on Wednesday.

You likely did not know of it because I do not live in New York City or Chicago or Miami or Los Angeles (the only cities in the United States, according to Major News Outlets), but we here in NEO had a massive winter storm. In its wake we were left with 14.5 inches of snow. That is OVER A FOOT OF SNOW for those of you scoring at home. It started as rain, which meant lots of slush and ice first. It was heavy and wet snow. I could not even shovel, which I usually love to do. It took Rick two and a half hours to snowblow our driveway and clear the bottom detritus left by the snowplow. And all of it will still be here until July, probably.

I:  Irritated. I had to go to the grocery store yesterday. I had not been shopping since before Thanksgiving, and we were out of some key items. Unfortunately, it was busy, as it often is on the third of every month. This meant I was confronted with an unusually high number of Idiots who: wear their masks UNDER their nose; pull their masks down to read labels; pull their masks down to talk to someone RIGHT NEXT TO THEM; hover right behind or next to me rather than say, "Excuse me" or wait their turn. In addition, as I was helping to bag my groceries, the cashier suddenly said to me, "Ma'am, where does your order end?" I was confused and asked her to repeat herself. "Which items are yours?" she asked. I looked at the end of the belt and saw that some pushy woman had already begun loading her stuff on the belt, INCLUDING HER DIRTY PERSONAL BAGS, WHICH HAD FLOPPED ONTO SOME OF MY GROCERIES. Let's just say that I restrained myself as much as I could, but let her know I did not appreciate her rudeness, breach of the rules, and lack of respect for my health and safety.

F:  Forward.  As in Looking Forward and Moving Forward. I may have mentioned that I keep a Countdown To America on my whiteboard. It is the number of days left until the Inauguration of President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris. (When the pandemic lockdown began in our state, I used the whiteboard to record a happy thing each day. I called it "Today's Yay".) 

I'm trying hard to look Forward to Christmas, but I'm just Not Feelin' It. I feel happy picking out presents for my grandchildren and children, but the prospect of putting up our tree right now simply feels like Work. I hope I get there; I truly do. 

Happy Friday to all of you. I missed you! Talk to me in Comments.

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