Life In The Fast Aisle

Today I did the marketing. That sounds so much more sophisticated, almost European, than buying groceries. In the interest of full disclosure, this isn't my first time do this. After all I was a single dad for ten years and did all the marketing. Now that I'm retired I wanted to do something to ease Shellie's work load. So the house is very neat and the yard almost enviable. And now, after a long hiatus, I'm back in the food store, Wal-Mart none the less. With list in hand I set out this morning to do battle with the hungry hoards. I traveled up and down the rows all the way from the pet department, health and hygiene, paper goods, canned goods, dairy, produce, and finally frozen food. I was pleased to find that there are less sideways, aisle-blocking carts at that time of the morning and few screaming children. For once I couldn't complain about the slow bewildered looking elderly because I was clearly numbered among them. The only drawback was the long line that awaited at the check-out. Apparently we all finished our shopping at exactly the same moment. But after numerous announcements of "code 7 to the front" several lines opened and the crowd thinned considerably. In my attempt to further my "slowness" philosophy, I chose to remain in the same line. Then on to the car with bags safely tucked into the trunk. I felt very successful, even accomplished. I was able to procure almost everything on my list. How those ice cream bars found their way into my cart is still a mystery.

The Market Basket Preview

Bruce is making his debut as our family's meal planner / marketer tomorrow.  I'm going to insist he write about it tomorrow!  Be watching.

Thank You!

Thank you to the 991 people who entered my Goodreads Giveaway for a chance at one copy of Love Under a Dark Sky!  The winner has been chosen and will receive her copy soon.

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He Worries

He worries about me.  Isn't it sweet?  I'm 43 years old; we have been married for 13 years; I have driven all over the country as part of my first job out of college; since I started teaching, I've driven to innumerable conferences and workshops and training sessions.  I haven't had a wreck since that weird run of three Valentines Days in a row when I was 18, 19, and 20 - that's ancient history - and only one parking ticket in the interim!  Yet, he worries about me.

This weekend I will be attending a committee meeting in Columbia, MO.  It's a mere three hours from home.  All good roads, daytime driving, and I'm renting a car since ours has gotten, well, old and well-used.  Of course, anything can happen, but that's true anytime with everyone.  Today is Monday and he has mentioned my trip, let's see, around. . . five times today.

He worries about me.  Isn't it sweet?