Saturdays Are For Shopping

I did not get much done this day, other than vow not to wash the sheets twice, but only once, this week. A clear violation of the Guest Manual Rulebook. What are they gonna do, sue me? I guess we'll just have to hope the world doesn't come to an end, with all this civil disobedience.

Speaking of the rapture, Loren and I were the only souls in the dining room at lunch, today. It was very quiet. TOO quiet. "Uh, Loren," I ventured. "You don't think we got left behind, do you?" "No, Becky, I don't think so," as he barely repressed rolling his eyes. (I just like to keep him on his toes:-)

We watched a movie on our clandestine DVD player, the computer. Then I had to get it back to the place that rents them, the grocery store. It was time to pick up some more grub, anyway. Then, displaying my amazing knowledge of the Rochester highway system, I zipped over to Wal-Mart, which is clear across town, in less than 10 minutes. Funny how one can only survive SO LONG without going to Wal-Mart. I really don't know how Laura Ingalls Wilder did it.

Anyway, with laser-like focus, I proceeded to all my appointed acquisition spots in the Superstore. (by the way, Blue Bunny chocolate almond fudge ice cream and Campbell's Italian wedding soup is really, REALLY good! But, um, not all together, of course)

I don't know what the weather is like where all of you are, but right here, it is very cold, with a biting wind. Still, I managed to safely stash my boughten articles in the back seat of the little Toyota. You know, the one that has to be pumped and started, over and over, until it finally STAYS started. (about 10 times) That gurgle of anti-freeze making its meandering way through the tubes is music to my ears. When I hear that, I know the car will stay running. Probably.

As I wound my way back through the busy streets and outrageously decorated homes, I turned on the radio to hear, "Prairie Home Companion." And who should Garrison introduce, but "The Boys of the Lough!" (pronounced "lock") The same outstanding group we had heard in the Charlton Atrium, almost two weeks ago. Just think, we heard a great group, in person, for free!
I had a feeling when I first heard them that they were "somebodies." I had even entertained the thought of taking my program up to have it autographed. But I knew Loren would never go for it.

So, here is the next best thing: I, having seen them in person, will now give out my autograph.
For a nominal, fee, of course. Naturally, relatives and friends will be offered reduced rates. Course, now, if you want 8x10 glossies, that will cost you extra. There is still time to purchase a Christmas gift autograph, for that hard-to-buy-for person. I would venture that this will blow those goofy chia pets right out of the water. Yes, I would venture that, except for the fact that I have never been one for self promotion.

But back to my exciting shopping adventure. I returned to The Big House, and rushed my packages into the hall. A task made more difficult by having to repunch the security code for each of the four trips. (doesn't it just make you wanna weep?) I hurried to deliver the frozen food "here," and the pantry food, "there," and the cold stuff to the fridge. I attempted cordiality with fellow guests, all the time realizing I was missing, "The Boys."

"Hi, Becky. Been shopping?"
" Hey, how 'ya doin'? No, I don't want a piece of cake! Look, I'm missing my show!"

I raced up the stairs (faster than that old elevator) burst into the room, and turned on Loren's radio/alarm clock. He was playing some classical stuff off the computer, but I turned mine up real loud and he got the hint.

Then followed the last, lovely hour of mirth and music. Ahhhhh. Very funny, and very nice. It takes so little to make one happy when you're in the slammer.

I did get a little annoyed with Loren, who chose the last piece, a Gaelic version of "Silent Night," to start rummaging through his box of computer parts.

Every once in a while, a wife has to put her foot down. So I told him, "You are being a pain. I want to listen." "Oh. Sorry."

Boy, if there's anything I can't stand, it's someone missing the trees for the forest.

(by the way, I just commented to Loren, "Whatever you read in here, I'm not mad at you. I'm just exploiting you." "Oh, fine. Do it to your heart's content." Don't worry, he was smiling. Sarcastically, but he was smiling)

I think that went well, don't you?

Tweet