Well that was one unusual morning!
Up as always, 7:30-ish. Shower, tidy, head out to feed the animals. And I say to Ed -- you know, I may as well go to Whole Foods on this last day that it's open in its old location. When I stopped by a couple of days ago just to take a look, the clerk told me they're planning a (secret, spread only by word of mouth) closeout sale today. 50% off of EVERYTHING, to empty out the shelves. Only he said that everything will go quickly, so I should aim to be there soon. We need more fruit...
Go now. I'll feed the animals. (This from Ed.)
(in the driveway, ready to pull out...)
I'm at the store at 8:05, so just five minutes after its opening. There is not a single parking space available in the lot.
I park up the hill, in the residential blocks and walk down, grabbing a cart along the way. I enter.
There is a a buzz in the air. A huge buzz! If you know this particular store, you'll agree with me that it has never been well suited for large grocery carts. The aisles are narrow, things are rather close. Well now! Pack all available carts into that store, inject some energy into the shoppers and it's like Times Square in New York and Oktoberfest in Austria, all rolled into one!
I'm here for the fruits, but, too for foods for the next few days, as the new store wont be opening until later in the week. But now that I'm inside, I, too, want those sales! Frozen shrimp -- plunk, one container, and another. Organic canola oil? For sure! I see that in the ten minutes of being open, all olive oils are gone! I go up the aisles and fill the cart. Carefully systematically. Comte cheese? Plunk. Milk cartons. Make that two. Plunk, plunk. Bacon for family gathering, yogurts for breakfast. Spices! Let's get some spices! Cinnamon, coriander, vanilla extract. Plunk, plunk, plunk. Laundry detergent! Walnut butter! Expensive stuff that suddenly is so much more reasonable. Yogurts, flowers, so many fruits, lettuces, beans. Excuse me, while I maneuver the cart here. Oh no, that's my fault, so sorry, this way!
What do I notice? That everyone is so very happy! I try to explain this later to Ed -- this sudden gift of expensive food being made inexpensive. Less, by far than the big box supermarkets, just on this one day, before the holidays, when everyone's food needs are so over the top -- a gift of all the food you want, at half price. It's an incredible boost to the spirit!
Ed says -- if people spent that same time searching out cheaper phone prices, cheaper services and things that they need on a regular basis, they'd save more money.
But that's not the point! You're let loose in a grocery store where you can have anything, anything at all for half price! It's such a gift!
[I am well aware of the fact that in doing this only by word of mouth, they're bringing in today their in-person customer base -- hardly the people who most need a severe grocery discount. Still, had there been a public announcement, the store would have been overwhelmed to the point that no one would have been very happy and I'm sure they want to keep their steady base tickled pink so that these people will come to shop in their new store. Such is capitalism! At least no special password or secret handshake was required. Whoever came, got the discount. Donations were collected for the food bank, I'll give them that. You would have had to have been an utter ass to save big and not give a bunch, as you gloated over your haul.]
And now comes the reality of the long check-out line. What I have always loved about this particular Whole Foods is that the store is run really well. The employees are well trained and they are on good terms with each other and therefore with you as well. And that organization and management did this day well too. A very cheerful person snaked the checkout line all around the store (there must have been 100 full carts waiting at any one time). It went quickly enough and as you passed shelves, you threw in more stuff into your cart! Aluminum foil, cupcake papers, corn tortillas. Yes, I need those too! Cholula hot sauce for Ed. And flowers! More apples! Let me throw in another bag of apples.
And finally, I am done.
As I walk over to get the car, I see that latecomers have formed a very, very long line now just to get in the store. My early arrival, indeed my very knowledge of this massive closeout sale was just happenstance. I had gone to get a body kneading and pounding and I had stopped in, learned of the sale, and this morning, Ed took care of the animals. And now I'm leaving with a car packed with groceries. Half price.
At home, over breakfast...
... I tell Ed that I have missed grocery shopping for us. I've mentioned here that I haven't done it in person since Covid struck in March. I dont enjoy the long car ride (17 minutes, each way), when I already spend so much time shuttling kids and myself into town, back to the farmette, into town, back to the farmette. But picking out foods for the week? Turns out I have, in fact, missed that. I have never worked off a grocery list. Not since Ed and I have been together. I merely walk, look and decide. The store is small enough that just by looking, I remember what I need for the week. (Holidays have been the exception: I definitely needed lists for Thanksgiving and Christmas!) I liked imagining meals right there in the store. I liked looking at produce and seeing what is bountiful and what is really a seasonal afterthought.
The question is -- will I go back to shopping now? When the new store opens? I dont know. With so little free time in my week, it seems like a waste of it. And yet...
In the evening the young family is here for dinner. Last one before the holidays! Everyone is feeling bouncy. Mostly in a good way!
(settling down with a book...)
(silliness percolates again...)
After they leave, I clean up and guess what -- I resolve issues that had plagued me all day yesterday. I make the travel changes. I'm happy. And Ed's struggles with our faltering oven? That's a less straightforward story. We've reached that point where he is exasperated with my impatience and I am impatient with his exasperation. He has at least three things he'd like to try as I bake and see what happens. Guess who does not want to go through a season of baking flops before we finally give up on the oven and admit that it is an unfixable dud?
An impasse, to be sure. In many ways, I feel for Ed: the stove lights up, gives heat. What more could you ask for! At the moment, I'm going along with weird fixes -- like placing a pizza stone on the bottom. Not sure why that would shrink the dead band, but I have no objection to trying. For now. Do I want a new range? Yes.. Will we get one? Our track record for "new and improved" is not good, but I cannot tell what 2024 will bring.
(three cats a-sleeping...)
With love...
