It's been a strangely humorous last eighteen hours. And expensive.
First the eldest child calls last evening to alert me to a good deal on turkeys at the local grocery store. I always like to have a turkey or two in the freezer so head out. The deal is that one must spend $25 to get the special low price; no biggie, think I. Off I go. Once there I wind my way through the crowds to the turkeys. (Perhaps I wound my way through the turkeys?) Problem number one arises almost immediately. I must get a turkey that is at least 16 pounds. The biggest turkey in the freezer is 15 pounds. Hmmmmm. Off to the meat counter I go. I ask if there is a replacement brand. No, but off she goes to check the "big" freezer. A few minutes later, with frost bite on her nose, she carries out a 15 pounder. It was the biggest she had. "Tell them to charge you the lower price and to call me if there is a question." I go off on my way to grab a few groceries to total the required $25. Cheese!! It is past time to send off Tillamook to my dear friend in NC. Score! It is on sale!! Bummer...no smoked cheese and I know that is the favorite. I pick up the brick and snivel to myself about the lack of smoked, grab a few more things and head to check out. I buy my big (and cheap) turkey and cheese, and head for home; Susan Boyle singing on the radio. Her new CD makes me cry, btw.
This morning I copied down addresses and packaged up the other copy of Susan's CD to send off to Hawaii and my step Mom. I decided to put the "flat rate box" to the test. You see, while not very big, there is a bit of weight when it comes to mailing cheese. (Go ahead, I will wait as you mull over all of your "cutting the cheese" comments.) I grab a box and it is huge. Off I go to the little grocery by the post office. Score! Smoked Tillamook cheese!! Back to the post office where I nab some paper from the recycle bin, fold up the box, address the label and go to the counter. Tape? Nope, have to buy it. sigh. Confirmation of delivery? No thanks. Insurance? Nope, I will pass, thanks. Stamps? Nope, but thanks. Then the question that somewhat baffles me. "Do you know you have a flat rate box?" Uhhhhh. Yes, yes I do. Now that I have tape, labels, pens, it is cheaper...right?
So I head for home. Eldest again calls and wants to discuss the whole global warming thing. I have my opinion but am not sure if I am being baited. What the heck, in I jump with both feet (Now THAT is an interesting concept, I must say). Amazingly enough he was serious and we talked a bit and parted ways. It is odd. I know my kids are adults, but sometimes I am still amazed that they actually think like adults and form their own opinions. (This one, however, has always had his own opinions and then loves to debate them.)
Home I head, as Susan sings "Amazing Grace." What a voice. Then, there in front of me as I drive into my driveway. Dear neighbor is up on the ladder. Putting up his house and yard decor for the season. A choir sings the chorus on the cd track. Life is good. I am blessed.
The phone rang. My house phone. The phone that is dead; I haven't dealt with it yet. Last night I had company and made some cookies to send home with them. I nabbed a mix for $1.50 and all I had to do was put oil, egg, and water in. Caller called for the recipe as they were the best variation she had tasted, and she is very picky about that particular kind of cookie as it is her very favorite. My recipe was spot on. Suddenly what I thought was a "good deed" comes off as a lazy deed. On she goes..."perfect amount of salt. Just the right sweetness. Was it handed down generation to generation?" Yep, it likely was. Either Betty or Duncan got it somewhere. Funny. I hang up. When I pick the phone up again and it is dead. Selective screening? Global warming? Postal?
Turkeys are on sale everywhere, and ARE everywhere. And I have a deer wandering through my yard.
Bizarre, but I am blessed