Posted tagged ‘Shopping’

“In America you can always find a party. In Russia the party always finds you.”

April 30, 2013

Today is downright gorgeous. The warmest day so far. Sunlight fills everything and nothing moves in the still air. Gracie hasn’t come inside yet, not even for her morning nap. Our only errand for today is to go to the vets. I found a hot spot on her fur which needs checking. I also have to vote in the primary for senator to see who will run to replace Kerry. I’m choosing the democratic primary, no surprise there I suspect.

Last we talked, I was in Moscow jumping ship from the tour. My travel partner and I started using the metro. I have never seen more beautiful metro stations in my whole life. Some actually had chandeliers. There wasn’t a single piece of trash nor any graffiti. We had to figure out where we were by using a map which had English translations below the Russian names for the stops. That wasn’t easy. It was like figuring out a code. We shopped a few times in the foreign currency shops, and I bought gifts for my family and some mementos for me, mostly wooden figures. Pins were big back then, and I bought a few of those which I still have framed. To get across large streets in Moscow there are pedestrian tunnels. We didn’t know that at first and started across the street when we heard whistles coming from the police heading our way. They were indignant. We were led to the tunnels and crossed the street through them though I don’t think you can say cross when you’re underneath. I’m not so sure what you’d say. We wandered the city for the last few days stopping in small museums and churches. A few of us decided to buy vodka and have our own little going away from Russia party. The day’s quota had been sold, but one guy led us to the back of a store where they sold us a couple of bottles. When we got back to the hotel, we wanted ice. The woman assigned to sit in the chair on our floor knew no English so we mimed pouring something into a glass, adding ice, drinking it and being cold. She brought us ice.

That last night we had a conversation about famous murders deciding to give our listeners something new. The British guy told us about a severed head found in left luggage. The rest of the conversation ran along the same lines until the British guy mentioned his roommate, an America, and how strange he was. When he left the room, he’d put a magazine a certain way so he could check to see if his bags had been rifled. He only wore two different sets of clothing despite having a huge suitcase. I mentioned I had seen him in one of those tunnels talking to a Russian woman. He had ditched the tour even earlier than we. All of us decided he must be a spy.

The next day we were driven to the airport for our flight to Copenhagen. Customs went through our bags. It was and still is the first time I ever had my bags gone through leaving a country. All of a sudden two soldiers took that American and his suitcase away. We weren’t all that shocked. We had figured something was up with him, but we were worried. We were the only ones who knew what had happened so we decided to stand our ground and not go upstairs to the waiting area until he was with us. Bad guide came over and said get upstairs or we’ll take your tickets away. The Argentinian said we didn’t care. We were rich Americans. Next, two soldiers came, pointed their rifles at us and moved them back and forth from us to the stairs. We talked and decided to go upstairs but we would make another stand there. We did. We were promised that our spy, our word, not theirs, would be on the plane. We waited to see, and he was brought first to the plane accompanied by soldiers. We then boarded.

After we had arrived in Copenhagen, we stopped him for the story. He was a spy of sorts, for the Zionist underground. He was supposed to travel with a partner but the partner got sick. The powers that be decided to let this guy go on his own. That’s how he was caught: being seen talking to Jewish dissidents. His suitcase had contained pairs of jeans which could be used on the black market. He has also brought books in Hebrew. His job was to get the names of those working in the underground in Tbilisi and Moscow. The first part of the trip had been cancelled which was why he was so indignant. The reason he had been taken away was the soldiers found letters which were addressed to Israel and had been given to him to mail. The letters were seized. The guy told us that what was most important, the names of the underground leaders, had not been found. He had written them in tiny letters in some of those books and pamphlets we had been given in Kalinin. They didn’t check Lenin material. We told him he was the worst spy ever as we had figured him for one, but we told him it was kind of exciting to have a spy in our group and to have rifles pointed at us. It made for a great story, the sort you’d expect in Russia or at the start of John Le Carré novel.

Well, that’s my trip to Russia. Thanks for coming along. I haven’t told this story in a long time, and it was fun to remember.

“Why can’t people just sit and read books and be nice to each other?”

January 3, 2013

Winter made a dramatic gesture by sending us the coldest day and night so far this season. I almost said this year then I remembered how young the year is. It was 12˚ last night, a perfect night to stay inside, cozy and warm. Poor Gracie got sent out before bed, but she was out for only a minute or two. I think it was squat and run.

My tree is standing in the living room covered by a white plastic bag. It is ready to be taken outside and brought to the dump. I took off all the ornaments and the lights yesterday. I hated doing it, but it was time. To accomplish that task I had to bring up the bins from the cellar, fill them then slide the heavy bins down the stairs and pile them until next year. My back bears witness to all the work I did yesterday so today is a nothing day. The tree can sit until tomorrow. Gracie and I also did errands yesterday, and I carried in the bags of bird seed and cans of dog food. I figured I’d already done in my back so what the heck. I did leave the 20 pounds of cat litter in the trunk, but I’m going to need that tomorrow to change the boxes. I have designated tomorrow dump day and the old litter has to go.

My scrub pine, the ugly fake tree, is still in the dining room where it will be lit every night until twelfth night. I have also left some decorations around the house to keep it a bit festive. There is no rush to return to drab.

I’ve finished Mr. Penumbra and moved on to Merry Christmas, Alex Cross. Nothing better than hostages and terrorists at Christmas. The book is short and won’t take long to finish. I think James Patterson has caught Mary Higgins Clark’s disease of hiding a short story under the guise of a novel.

It’s a wonderful world when I can plan my day around the couch and a book. I have the whole day to do what I want. How lucky I am!

“Like snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance – each beautiful, unique and too soon gone.”

December 3, 2012

This is an alternative universe. It just has to be as mine doesn’t have sun or temperatures in the 50’s, at least not in December. Today and yesterday have been amazing. Though it rained a little yesterday, it was so warm all day that even at 11 o’clock last night it was still 51˚. Today is just as warm, and there is actually sun, a glowing orb in the sky I barely recognized. It’s a day to be outside enjoying a bit of a breather from winter.

The birds are back. This morning was like a busy day at O’Hare. My friends the chickadees have returned, as have goldfinches, a titmouse, woodpeckers who are enjoying my new suet feeder and the nuthatches who have been, for a while, my only visitors. Yesterday it was two house finches. When I stand at the sink, I look out the window behind it to get the best view of the birds and the feeders. I’m glad to have them back though now I need more sunflower seeds.

My outside lights went up yesterday and were lit last night. I drove around the block so I could see the whole house. It looks lovely, especially the huge star with trailing tails of lights which hangs on the driveway gate and the ornament tree lit by the spotlight. I noticed the sled near the door and the wreath on the front gate could use a bit of light so that will be my quest today, to find exactly the right strands. I also want to flower shop, to buy my poinsettias and boxwood. The rosemary tree is already on order. I love decorating my house for Christmas, and this is only the beginning.

The town where I grew up always decorated the fire station, the town hall and the square. The brick fire station was my favorite. Colored lights outlined the whole building and Santa climbed a ladder on the siren tower. In the square, decorations were strung from one side of the street to the other. A giant wreath was hung on the front of the police box which used to stand in the middle of Main Street. All the stores decorated their windows. Even the fish market had snowflakes falling on the mounds of snow at the bottom of the window, but you could still see the lobster tank.

In those days, the square had the only shops in town. Carolers from the different elementary schools sang each night on the stage which was erected just for Christmas. The sidewalks were filled with people, and you could hear them wishing each other a Merry Christmas. I loved being there just as it started to get dark and the Christmas lights were lit. It was like a fairyland.

“The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”

November 29, 2012

I lost count of the number of envelopes I stuffed this morning, and my back started to give out so I finished around noon. To ease my pain I shopped for a few Christmas presents at the Natural History Museum store.

The sun keeps appearing and disappearing, but the day is bright enough to keep me happy. Gracie, my live barometer, stayed out in the yard a long while: the longer she’s out, the nicer the day. It’s sweatshirt weather.

When I was a kid, Woolworth’s uptown was my favorite store. It was an old store with a wooden floor that sloped in places and squeaked when you walked on it. The cash registers were in the front by the windows. The toys were in the second aisle. Comic books were on a rack toward the front. We’d always pick up and read a couple while we were there. Nobody ever yelled at us to put them down. I remember the balsa model planes we’d buy for 10 cents. They’d have only a couple of flights before some piece would break, usually the tail-piece. Woolworth’s was where we bought our kites and string. It was also our Christmas shopping mecca. With a dollar in hand, we could find something for the whole family. For my dad, it was a white handkerchief every Christmas. He used handkerchiefs all of his life. My mother was a bit more difficult. I’d have to go up and down the aisles until I found the perfect gift. Perfume in small glass bottles made a great present. I suspect it smelled pretty bad, but I thought the etched bottles were pretty. My sisters got doll bottles or doll rattles and my brother often got that plane from me.

I wrapped those gifts myself and used plenty of tape so no one could peek though my sister Moe probably did. She was known for peeking through tiny holes she’d rip in the wrapping paper and was an expert at not getting caught. Over time, she has parlayed that talent into being able to guess what is in just about every wrapped Christmas present. She does her parlor trick on Christmas Eve and scores nearly 100%. Outwitting Moe is one of the challenges of Christmas. It takes ingenuity and guile, and I have both. This year Moe goes down!

“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”

November 27, 2012

The weather is back to cloudy, grey and bleak. Rain is expected here while off-cape will be getting a little snow, an inch or two. I figure it’s just enough to remind people that winter is impatiently waiting in the wings. Yesterday I actually did some cleaning, a bit of polishing and dusting. I also filled all of the bird feeders and put out new thistle and suet feeders. Today I have to bring up the laundry from the cellar and do a few errands. Gracie will be glad for the errands. I’m not so glad about the laundry.

When I worked, I was able to fit in all the errands and chores despite the long work day. Weekends were filled with laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning and a run to the dump. I was usually in bed on school nights by 10 as the day started around 5:15 or 5:30. The alarm went off at 5, but I always hit the snooze button so I could feel as if I were cheating the clock in some small way.

Since my retirement I have noticed strange phenomenons. Though I have all the time in the world, I don’t get a whole lot done. I procrastinate as there is always tomorrow or the next day or the next, on and on. I also noticed I have become protective of my time. The phone gets answered reluctantly though I’m okay if it’s a friend or a family member. I hate appointments. They usurp my time. This week I have two, both of which I voluntarily made: one is to have my car checked for servicing and the other is stuffing envelopes at the museum where I am a volunteer. Based on past performances, I’ll regret having made them and will have to force myself out the door. I’ll whine and curse a bit.

When I was a kid, if my mother put on lipstick, it was a signal she was going out, and we always wanted to know where. I usually wear slippers around the house. If I put on shoes, Gracie is on the alert. She knows I must be going somewhere so she  plants herself by the front door. Lipstick meant a complete change in routine and now it’s slippers. I guess I just don’t go out often enough or I should wear shoes inside more often.

“Gee, do they still make wooden Christmas trees?”

November 26, 2012

Today is a pretty day filled with sunlight and a clear blue sky. It’s even warm at 48 degrees. The leaves at the end of the branches are blowing, but the wind is gone. It’s a day to get out and do something.

My dance card for the week is fuller than usual, with usual being empty. Wednesday and Thursday are booked, and Skip will be by to put up my outside Christmas lights on Friday so I’ll have to scurry and get my wreaths. I love that errand: walking among the trees and wreaths and filling my nose with the smell of Christmas.

My father and his sister and Christmas trees are a part of my memories. My father used to go with my mother to pick out and buy the tree. He was always aghast at the prices and would try to convince my mother to go with a sparser, less expensive tree. My mother, at heart a Christmas elf, would never agree. She wanted the fullest of all trees, and my father usually gave in. The tree took up a whole corner of the room and was always beautiful. My aunt, my father’s younger sister, would drop by to visit and always admired the tree. She’d say something about how expensive it must have been which was really a subtle way to get the price. She and my dad had a yearly unacknowledged competition as to which one of them had bought the cheaper but more beautiful tree. My father always lied. We knew it and I think she did too. No matter how expensive the tree had been, my father always said $15 or $20, and my aunt was always amazed. None of us ever said a word about the real cost of the tree. We enjoyed the family ritual, the always rigged tree competition.

 

“A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing.”

April 23, 2012

My PC is ailing. This morning has been a struggle. I think I’ll have to stop at my computer place and discuss the symptoms. I got so frustrated earlier that the air got blue a few times, but I did feel better afterwards.

We have had two days of rain, and I couldn’t be happier. Everything was just so dry, and there have been brush fires across the state. The red alert for fire possibilities has been in effect for several weeks so I hope the rain has helped lower the dangers.

Today is an out and about day. I have a few errands and some fun shopping which makes those errands more palatable. It is cool enough that Miss Gracie can come. Right now she is napping after her exhausting morning of barking and barking at the rabbit which decided to sit within her view and mock her.

My exertions at the computer have wiped out any original thought. I really hate it when machines out of my control begin to malfunction. With the small appliances, made for obsolescence, I just toss them and buy another. I always figure they were meant for a short life on this earth. But with larger machines like computers or even washing machines, my daily life is totally interrupted. I can’t wear dirty clothes and washing machines aren’t cheap. My MAC can replace my PC but I haven’t transferred all the files so that might be next. I’m groaning at the thought.

My mother always went over her budget when she bought us shoes. She figured the more expensive ones would save her money in the long run. She was right. Ihave the same philosophy with most things, not just shoes. I do a lot of research as sometimes small ticket items are just as good as large but without the fanfare, but I don’t mind spending the money if what I’m getting is worth the price.

Okay, this one is a doozie. The other day I got a free download from Noel Paul Stookey. It was an e-mail sent widespread, “In thanks for your past support of Noel Paul Stookey and Neworld Multimedia Music.” It also came with a video. I laughed and deleted it.

“What terrified me will terrify others; and I need only describe the spectre which had haunted my midnight pillow.”

March 13, 2012

I am possessed. There is no other way to describe it. I think it is by some old lady who spent her life cleaning homes or buildings. I have proof. Yesterday I attacked and cleaned one of my biggest cabinets. I was tired of stuff falling out every time I was looking for something so I took everything out. In the way back of the cabinet I found all of the chewed pieces of paper from when the mouse lived there. That was disgusting. I also found half-filled bottles of the same thing so I poured and managed to throw away the empty duplicates. I found stuff I didn’t even know I had. Who needs three aluminum foil boxes? Obviously I do. How about two unopened boxes of Cling Wrap? Last week my nephew wanted 3 in 1 oil which I knew I had but he couldn’t find. Well, I have three of those. I also found lemon oil which is on my shopping list. That led to the next chore.

I oiled the old desk in my bathroom. You probably wonder why a desk is in my bathroom. Well, it is a small narrow, pull down front desk, and I keep my guests linen there. That bathroom has a school theme. No, it is not a reflection on my education!

Next, I mineraled oiled the butcher block in my kitchen then I noticed my dining room table. It has a stain but no finish so out came the lemon oil and I oiled the table and a small stool.

I want the haunting to stop and I want the old lady gone. It is not me to tackle such obscure tasks. The most I usually do is use my sleeve to dust and I’m quite happy with that accomplishment; however, I can hear another couple of cabinets calling me, and I’m forcing myself to stay away from them. I know the old lady is itching for me to get at them.

All of that work and staying up too late caused me to sleep until eleven; that’s right eleven. It was a put a mirror under her nose to see if she’s breathing sort of morning. The animals stayed right with me.

I do have to go out as I have a short list of things I need. What is going on? Here I am cleaning and now grocery shopping. I need an exorcist.

“For in spite of the snapdragons and the duty millers and the cherry blossoms, it was always winter.”

March 11, 2012

The sky is a deep blue with only a few small clouds to give the blue a bit of contrast. Cars had frost on their windshields when I left for breakfast this morning. It was darn cold last night. The animals huddled beside me in bed keeping themselves and me warm. Now is their morning nap time, and the house is warm and cozy.

Gracie and I will go to the dump later. I haven’t told her yet. It’ll be a surprise. After that I need to buy dog food at Agway. It used to be that on weekends I’d shop at all these neat little stores and buy clothes or linens or stuff I really didn’t need but liked and knew I’d find the perfect place for somewhere in the house. My friend and I would go to the antique stores and never leave empty-handed. I can’t remember the last time I shopped without pushing a grocery cart of some sort. I think I’m becoming boring.

Last week I barely left the house. I did go grocery shopping, but that doesn’t count. Inside the house I did only menial tasks: I changed the bed and the cat litter and did a wash or two. I’m thinking I was doing a great imitation of a shut-in. This week I vow to get out more often. I had good intentions last week, but I was lazy and enjoyed doing nothing. Mind you, I’m not feeling guilty, but I do think some air and sun are probably good ideas.

It is with longing that I look out my window at the deck. The chairs and tables are still covered. I want to be out there enjoying the warmth of the morning sun with my coffee and papers. Now, only Gracie runs across it from the yard, and the birds drop by to eat. This morning I saw the red spawn of Satan running along the rail. The beast hasn’t been around a while, and I thought it had moved. It didn’t stay long, but its very presence is more than an annoyance. I want a rock.

This is the time of year when Mother Nature plays her tricks on us. Some days will be close your eyes and let the sun warm you days while other are scrape the car window days. I can barely wait until every day is warm in the sun. I’ve enough of winter even as warm as it was.

“Forget about being world famous, it’s hard enough just getting the automatic doors at the supermarket to acknowledge our existence.”

March 3, 2012

Gee, it’s raining. What a surprise! I was shocked when I woke up and saw yesterday and the day before and the day before that outside my window. The difference is today is warmer at 50°.

It’s sci-fi Saturday when I get to watch a whole day of TV filled with creatures whose main diet is man. Right now Manticore is picking out his entrée having already enjoyed several appetizers, nearly a whole village full.

I have to grocery shop today, my least favorite thing to do. I’ll go up and down the aisles filling my cart while in a stupor hoping to avoid conversation and the carts parked willy-nilly in the middle of the aisles. My list of what I really need is even boring, mostly household cleaning items. I can barely wait for the dishwashing liquid aisle.

You might have figured I am feeling a bit languid today. If my fridge weren’t empty, I might postpone the shopping, but I’m stuck hitting the aisles if I want lunch or dinner. Where is that housekeeper I ordered?

I used to love to shop in the market in Ghana. It was filled with colors and sounds and chattering in a language I didn’t understand but loved hearing. First, I’d make my usual stops: the beef meat market, my vegetable lady, the egg man, the pick out your chicken line-up and then I’d wander. I never knew what I might find. Some days I’d buy cloth to have a dress made. Once I found a watermelon. Usually I’d just fill my bag with onions, tomatoes, maybe garden eggs and a yam. I’d  greet everyone,”Sanda kasuwa,” (I greet you in the market), and they’d return the greeting. I was a usual sight so no one took special notice of this white woman wandering the market.

I loved market day. It was every third day, and I’d go if I could. Now I get stuck shopping in the dullest of places: Stop and Shop. I know their meat will never turn green and I won’t find a partially formed chicken when I break an egg but where’s the adventure?