It's a Bah Humbug World Sometimes

The weekly shopping trip, and a big one this week with groceries for company and holiday meals. We drive to our favorite store with a big list.

The first downer is that the Salvation Army man is talking about "an expensive jacket" with another guy and doesn't even acknowledge my donation. I'm tempted to dig it back out of the bucket, but who would that harm?

A trek through the store and I even find the marachino cherries without a hassle, and they have Mrs. Fanning's Pickles, too, but still not German stollen. My last purchase is a bouquet of reddish freisias, which look very festive.

Not one but two young ladies are bagging the groceries today, and I stop to explain to them to distribute the groceries evenly, as in no packing 4 big bottles of cranberry juice together and the bottom falls out of the bag. Of course I don't say that. They nod and spend a lot of time making bagging decisions which pisses off the checker. He isn't happy that I race back to the potato chip aisle to exchange the "sea salt and vinegar" chips I bought for regular. I think the guest I bought the chips for wouldn't even like the vinegar business. Don't want to find out. I am quickly back at the check out stand in spite of an untied shoelace.

To make up for my trip to exchange potato chips,I try to help unload the cart and the checker totally stops checking. I stop. He starts. I start again. He stops. He tells me when I am finished he will start again. The woman in line behind me finds another line. The girls are still cautiously portioning the groceries into the bags.

I apologize to the checker who is the king of his little dominion and he barely acknowledges the apology. Starting to get mad. After all this fussing around, the bags are still lopsided with the groceries packed with the heavy stuff together, still. I thank the young ladies, who are obviously clueless and the checker wishes me a merry Christmas which he would undoubtedly say if Ghengis Khan and his hordes were standing in line. I wish him the same, because the niceties have to be observed, but I am fuming.

It is only noon. Did he have a bad morning? Does he not like me from some faux pas that I committed weeks ago? Do his feet hurt? Is it my fault if the vinegar and the regular chips look alike? I seldom buy potato chips.

On the way home I realize I have forgotten to bring the cracked corn for the white geese and the ducks who inhabit the pond we pass by. They always seem so hungry in the winter. I promise them I'll come back with two big cans on Christmas.

The cat makes a hat trick by throwing up on the third dining room chair in a week.

Then a friend drops by with cookies and we have a good chinwag together and everything is forgiven. We admire the almost to the ceiling tree and the new dollhouse and drink wine and eat cookies. Cookies and wine are not a bad combo. Probably better than beer and cookies.

The neighbor brought chocolate covered potato chips which are sinfully decadent. She gave us some last year and I have to confess that I hid them and ate them all. Maybe today was my comuppance.

Tomorrow I use upholstery cleaner on the dining room chairs and finish the wrapping. Thisbe just leapt (all 18 pounds of cat) from the chair onto my desk. We obviously haven't had enough Mommy-kitty time today. Ooops! Friday is cat blog day. What the hell? It's Christmas.

Grapeshot, unbowed