Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Monday, July 19, 2004

On Target

Decided to go to Target mainly because it was close and is usually not very busy. Broke up into two, three member assault teams, with Rebecca, Jonathan and I taking the far portion of the store, Reba and the other two girls taking the near portion, and with the plan of meeting in one of the intervening aisles, then hitting the cold sections together.

Now, I am a speed shopper. If I don’t immediately think of a need for something, I rarely get it. No name brands if I can help it, store brands only. Soup? It comes in cans--just grab cans! I can’t be expected to stand there and decide if I really want chunky sun-dried tomato with ham and lentils or watery chicken and stars--after it’s overheated and three days old, none of it’s gonna taste all that great! Because in the end, it’s speed that counts. Every minute you spend in a grocery store is five whole years off your life. Really. I read it in a book or something.

So, our team went to work. Tortillas, flour, cheapo. Spaghetti, cheap. Spaghetti sauce--Prego, mainly because good spaghetti sauce adds back valuable minutes that were wasted shopping for it. SOUP! Eight cans. Probably some of it will be good. Mac and cheese, cheapo. Lemonade mix--Crystal Light. Curse Target for not having it’s own store brand. On and on. Wonder when we’re going to run into Team B. Finally get back to front of store and see that they are STILL IN THE VEGETABLE BINS! Sheesh. Manage to speed up the process, then we hit the cold stuff--milk, cheese, cheese, butter, cheese, biscuits, cream cheese, lunch meat, cheese--hmm, awful lot of cheese. That might explain something.

Finally get our two carts overloaded and we head back to the checkout. 30-something checkout stands, exactly four are open. Unload, scan, sack, reload. Home. Flurry of activity to get the frozen things into the freezer before they melt. Generally succeed.

It is now 8:30, and we still haven’t had supper. What better way to feed children late at night than a nice pizza!? One of the things we bought was one of Target’s brand of Chicago-style deep dish pizzas. Despite my misgivings, it was actually VERY tasty, although the instructions for covering the thing with aluminum foil could have been a bit more clear--I wound up burning the edge of the crust. Still ate it though.

Into bed with the crew afterwards, then up again Sunday morning. Breakfast, then church, then the trip to the other side of the county for the monthly time spent with Ashley’s other grandparents, then back home for some supper, then to church again for the start of Vacation Bible School. The theme is something along the lines of ‘‘Discovering the Treasures in God’s Word,” and there’s all sorts of treasure chests and maps and pirate images to interest the little kids. Sort of an odd juxtaposition, I must say, but I think they get the tie-in, however tenuous it might be. Finished up last night after 9.

Whew. This lasts until Thursday. It’s gonna be a VERY long week.


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