No Really, It’s Only a Flesh Wound

I braved the world today.

As usual it got the better of me.

It stands to reason.

I’ve been praying for a week at least for some important things. They have all come out as we wanted them to.

So, it was obvious that things would now return to normal–SNAFU. I figure God thought he granted us the greatest good fortune when we found one another. He figured it was good enough for well, twelve years and counting.

Shit just goes wrong a lot. Maybe we aren’t exceptional in that. My karma is crap. So, as I said, things returned to normal.

Remember I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that we got our eyes tested and ordered new glasses? Yes. I see you do. They were promised WITHIN weeks. So I went to the optical zoo a full one day after the expiration of two weeks. The Contrarian’s new glasses? Sure! Got ’em. Mine? You must be kidding.

A quick check of the laboratory in Transylvania, Romania, assures the myopic clerk that they were made and sent. Myopia maven says, hey, they have not arrived here.

I forestall the desire to invite said glassified youngster on the high probability that she or one of her like drones has misplaced them, and it would be a good idea now to go start turning the place upside down and FIND MY GLASSES!

Apparently “lost in transit” happens a good deal, since without batting a coke-bottled eyeball (really really big eyeballs she had), she orders my glasses again and yells “RUSH IT”. Which means that it will be coming by whatever has now replaced carrier pigeons as transportation from Eastern Europe.

I swear she called the guy “Peggy” when she hung up.

Well, of course that kind of SNAFU should be enough for anyone in one day, and you would guess it was. You would be wrong. So very wrong.

I proceeded to a HYVEE grocery. Now out of pure unadulterated hatred, I don’t shop at Wal-Mart unless I can’t find it anywhere else. But let’s not mince words. Wal-Mart’s prices are better, so it behooves any other store to really (and I mean seriously) out customer satisfy me.

So, I am humming along collecting my goodies, and I am nearing the finish line, when all shit breaks out. I arrive in the veg-a-ta-buls, and immediately spot a big problem.

WHERE THE BEJEBUS ARE MY TOMATILLOS? I look up and down, and from side to side. There are no other dimensions, so it ends there. Not a single papery skinned green appearing tomato can be found. Not even a sorry excuse for one that has been tumbled from the shelf and resides in the murky corner of a public floor.

I whimper and figure I’ll have to alter the recipe now to use an enchilada sauce and, am wondering whether I should return to the “Ethnic” aisle to locate a commercial brand from that “authentic” EL Paso (isn’t that in Texas?) brand, when. . . .wait for it. . . I discover there is a big opening hole where the freakin’ fresh basil should be.


I am now seeking a anyone who dares to wear a garment that associates them with this insipid store and when I spot the victim I wave furiously. I can almost see him shrink into his shell as he approached with the look of one who is hen-pecked at home and at work.

“You, Sir, are destroying my menus in one-fell-swoop.” (Seriously if you have a clue what a one-fell-swoop is let me know)

“What do you need Ma’am?” he wheezes, his eyes darting around looking for an escape.

“I need tomatillos and fresh basil!” I declare. I do this loudly, so that everyone within a three-mile radius is aware that I am unhappy. That pleases me to know that my pain is visible.

“I have them in the back, I’m sure Ma’am,” he says in a pained rush as if releasing the air from a balloon. “If you can wait just a minute, I’ll find them for you,” his voice nearly breaking with the plea.

“I’ll be here for a few more minutes collecting my other veggies,” I announce, not wanting him to think I would stay a lifetime now to obtain my precious items of food.

He rushes off.

He returns with the basil, and assures me that he just has to open the right magic box in the back to retrieve the tomatillos. I have just finished getting everything but one item when he plops down a box of my lovely green orbs and he breathlessly offers,”take as many as you need” and rushes off to save another damsel in distress.

Oh, enough?

No. Not yet.

I go to the highfalutin’, oh so ritzy, international cheese display, with wheels of parmesan and asagio, and bries, and goat’s nectar. I love cheese, and I’m happy to peruse the shelves, my eyes caressing the blocks and wedges.

Um. . .where the frackin’ crapola is the Mexican section? I mean, they are part of the international aren’t they?

When it is clear that there is no Mexican section, I collar a bakery minion who has the ill fortune to pass by.

“Where is the queso fresco?” I ask with a hint of friendliness, masking a dark and evil seething heart.

“I am from bakery,” she starts to mumble, but the cold steel look in my eye, convinces her immediately that there is no escape. “I’ll ask the cheese people for you,” so blurts out and rushes over to the deli counter. “This lady need some queso fresco. Where is it?

“Case -o- what?” comes the reply.

“It’s a Mexican cheese,” I spit from tight lips.

“Oh, that’s in dairy.”

“That is on the other damn side of the store,” I scream, as this little slicer backs up and her eyes grow wide in something akin to real fear.

Well I go over there, and it is not even with the idiot cheese (store basic yellow and white). It’s on a shelf across from it, and they don’t have any of it anyway, just four lonely rounds of other Mexican cheese, and an even lonelier single package of chorizo, which is a far piece from where all the other sausages reside.

“What is wrong with you people?”

“Look, all cheese except cardboard crumbles of fake Kraft parmesan and that glue called CheeseWiz and Velveeta are kept in coolers. Keep them all there! You morons have cheese in four different places in this warehouse.”

“Put that fake cheese with the other fake foods, you know the Hamburger Helpers and the canned “chili” and Hungry-man frozen dinners. You can have a whole aisle of stupid garbage food. Include the juice-less juicy juices, and you can take care of the fake people who eat that swill.”

“Either that, or provide limo in store service and I’ll just point and you drive me around.” One or the other.

And I left the store and only one middle finger later from an irate teenage who wasn’t able to use the road as an exercise of “from 0-60 in three seconds”, I got home without further incident.

It’s only a flesh wound, just get me some peroxide and a clean bandage. I’ll be good as new in no time.


I’m Glad That’s Done!

grocery_shopping1Which all goes to establish why there isn’t much of a post today. We shop once a month. The Contrarian accompanies me, and makes it less miserable than it otherwise is. Trying to shop alone for a full month is just too much. With the two of us, it is manageable and standable.

The day’s reward is that I don’t cook on shopping day, and we bring home Chinese takeout. After the crap is all safely put away, we both collapse, and one of us quickly says, “I’m so glad that is done for another month!”

Actually, I’m rather disorganized again. It seems I am always behind these days. I need very much to update my blogroll here, and as haven’t so far. I guess there are about half a dozen or a bit more new blogs that I think you might enjoy taking a look at. When I get to it that is.

Things at Church are slowing down, as I’ve now finished my four weeks as facilitator of our adult bible study class. That means a bit more time I can devote to EFM class prep and reading. There always seems more to read.

Additionally, I have been contacted by yet another publisher about reviewing a book. This is more complicated and may involve a guest post by the author and some other promotional type things. Just as I set this up, I went to the mailbox last afternoon to find another book there. Again, from a publisher I’ve never heard of. So my book reviewing seems to be going along nicely, if still having no monetary value to me!

Yesterday, I can probably conclude that I did something you did not. I played herder to a stray calf that had come through the fence in pursuit of the grass (being always greener on the other sideĀ  as you well know). I called the Contrarian, who had taken the splitter to a friends and was splitting wood. He suggested I “herd” the dumb calf. And so I did, yelling and whooping it up until it crossed over and went over the hill.

At the time, I assumed it found mom and the rest of the herd and would be heard of no more. But such is not the truth. As I opened the door to let out the dogs, some hours later, said calf, (Henry I believe) as back at it, munching away. The dogs chased it off, and so far, we haven’t seen him back. We saw the rest of the herd as we returned from shopping. Hopefully he is regaling them with tales of the spooky lady and the slavering dogs who came within a hairs breath of ending his life.

In the fields and on the roads the land is awash with farmers and machinery, all doing as best they can to clear fields. Fields are soggy but stable for the most part. We are driving over ours now, to avoid the low spots and are muddy still. There is just no way to drain this water.

I seem to see eagles and hawks everywhere. They love this time of year when the fields are being cleared as the rodents are more obvious to them I assume. Deer find the time stressful, since much of there field cover is being mowed to the ground. I’ve so far met a couple on the road at night coming home from EFM or church related activities.

I’ve had no luck on the SAD issue. I am told that full spectrum bulbs aren’t the same and can’t be expected to work. To buy the lamps is “expensive” as these boxes are highly over priced. So I guess I’ll just sit in the sun when it is available!

All about is now that horrid brown of nothingness that is the later fall. The leaves seem to drop precipitously in just a few days, and well, its all bare now. My thoughts turn to yarn and sweaters and stuff like that. I so want to make a pair of socks, but am loath to think I can understand the instructions and these 4 needles.

I need to be back to my lists, so that I can at least have a stab at meeting all my commitments. Today is not a day where that is gonna happen. But then, at least we got that shopping done!

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Why does Walmart have 40 Checkout lanes?

We made it! It was not easy, but we succeeded in resupplying ourselves today. It did not start out well. We left the house at 8 a.m. and immediately discovered a dead battery in the car. That was disconcerting, but it recharged quickly, and we were moving at 8:30. We made it up the hill fairly easily although the snow path was cut between two five feet drifts as we careened around to the first gate, feeling like a bumper car occupants.

Through the gate, and things got very much better, out in the field the path was no more than about 3 inches drifted right or left and the path was wide. As we neared the road, oh God, the snow was cut again into a narrow maze with snow going up over the top of the car. We pulled onto the road which was very clear of snow, it was all piled in the ditches. Our mailbox was barely visible, thanks to a neighbor who had dug out in front so it could be found again.

The rest of the trip was not remarkable in any way. We traipsed first to Fairway and got our meat. Then on to Walmart for me, and Lowe’s for the Contrarian. They he caught up with me in Walmart. Four carts later, we were done with that phase.Can you tell me why Walmart has 40 checkout lanes? I’ve never ever seen more than 6 open ever. Grrrr. Now it was off to Office Max for printer ink. Then to Michaels. Parker waited in the car and I tried to take my time, but truth to tell, I was tired already. I found a few things I wanted, mostly yarn and stuff for a gift for the neighbors. I found surprisingly, what I had been unable to find for months, an offset spatula. So much easier to frost things with that. Who would have thought I’d find it at Michaels, when I had been unsuccessful in Younkers, Sears, Target or Walmart. I have no idea why the buggers are so hard to find in Cedar Rapids.

A final stop at the Chinese place to pick up dinner, and we were off, until Parker remembered he needed to stop for a chain saw chain, and various other man things that I didn’t bother to inquire any further about. With that done, we were finally on the way home. Again, that was uneventful until we actually got home. A minor “stuck” occurred turning around, but between us we got it turned around and backed to the house without further difficulty. Of course, then we noticed that the engine was smoking, and discovered it had popped its cork apparently. I don’t know at this point whether that is a serious problem or not. Parker will put anti-freeze in it tomorrow and find out if it runs okay, and if so, run into Walker and collect the rest of our mail.

The worst part of the entire thing is always dragging all that stuff in and putting it away. Parker does the lugging and I do the putting away, and then two loads down to the deep freeze and we were pretty much done. I haven’t had time to ogle over my yarns and new crafty things yet. I’m pooped! This evening I plan on perusing my new craft magazine and see what I can get inspired about. This evening will be so delightful, knowing that nasty job is done for at least a month, and with our lack of luck this year, probably longer. We are fat and happy with food and treats for now at least.

The only one who got robbed was poor Brandy. She had not had a car ride for weeks and got to go to Troy yesterday, but she sure felt abandoned when we left without her today. Bear is more stoic and nonchalant about such matters. He thinks its girly to act that excited. She did get to ride when Parker went out to move the car forward a bit, so it didn’t set in a natural dip. Such things are important when you are dealing with ice. A foot, a mile, or a transcontinental excursion are all the same to her. She jumped out happily and went back to the usual dog amusements.

Parker groused that the dogs were no better at adding wood to the stove than his wife. His new tire for the wood cart was too small. I forgot to get Parmesan cheese. I’m sure we will find further things we forgot or got the wrong size of. He just checked the ink printer cartridge. Hurrah, he got the right one! Tomorrow, I’m making some of those snickery bars I mentioned a few days ago. But I also will be back to blogging normally I think.

Hope you all had a pleasant day. We didn’t but we are sure happy now. Oh, the girl at the Chinese place had the greatest t-shirt: “Annoying the world, one person at a time.” I want one!