I must have been bored out of my tree when I signed up for a senior hall trip to a brand new outlet mall in town. A half day of shopping is for people who actually enjoy the experience. If I’m going to spend that much time looking at stuff I’d rather be looking in an antique mall where I’m apt to find something as old and obsolete as I am. Sure, if I had a bunch of grandkids to shop for, it might be different. I, too, would have boarded the bus back home with more bags than would fit in the overhead compartments. I came home with a set of one inch square, thick rubber bread bag “ties”---neat things that are too big to lose and easier to use than the twist ties that come on bagged foods.
A third of the women came home with new purses from the Vera Bradley store. “How could you pass them up?” my seatmate asked, “They were 70% off!”
“Easy,” I replied, “I don’t need a purse.” And if I did, I added inside my head, it wouldn’t be one that looks like it was made from a pair of trailer drapes. When I was growing up my mom sewed curtains and drapes for a trailer sales place. That’s where my dislike of floral prints was spawned. Though I do remember one, non-floral fabric she brought home. It had Sputniks and other “heavenly” object on it. I hear that stuff is coming back in style again and if Vera Bradley ever hops on that wagon, let me know.
It was a beautiful, sunny day at the mall. Not too hot, not too cold. I walked the entire complex, a series of ‘fake streets’ and courts for pedestrians. A pretty place but all I could think about was: 1) how will they deal with the snow? It looked like it was designed for places that don’t get any. No place to pile or blow snow, no snow melting grates; 2) why did they install stainless steel desks on the 'streets'? They were outfitted with device chargers and Wi-Fi and looked like teen magnets on steroids. Mall cops in other area malls have a hard time dealing with loitering teens, this place was inviting them to stay overnight. And last but not least, 3) with over 130 stores you’d think they’d have a least one coffee shop! The only sandwich shop in the place didn’t serve coffee and, yes, I got cranky without my morning caffeine. “Starbucks is coming by Christmas,” I was told. Sweet Jesus! I thought, I think I’ll find a cup of coffee before then! Out loud I said, “That will be a nice.”
The next day my plum colored Fitbit Charger HR came in the mail. Now I can now track how much I don’t walk and don’t sleep. Did I need another gadget in my life? No, but half the people I know brag them up so why not keep up with the Kardashians, so to speech. Truth be told, I sent my pocket pedometer through the washing machine one too many times thus I joined the Fitbit fad. That will last until I wear it in the shower one sleepy morning. The first night it documented that I slept five hours, 39 minutes, woke up nine times and was restless 29 minutes. Tonight I’m taking an Aleve PM and see how much difference that makes. And tomorrow night I’ll bring out the big guns and take an Ambien. I love those pills. I’m out like the preverbal light in ten minutes and I wake up feeling like I’ve been having a tea party with the angels.
Saturday was a rainy day but I went to the farmer’s market anyway. All the vendors were giving ‘rainy day’ discounts and I scored more food than I can eat in a week: 3 cucumbers, 4 tomatoes, 4 corn on the cob and a pound each of new potatoes, string beans, blueberries and strawberries. I also got baby loaves of Dakota bread and extreme cinnamon, 4 salty camels, a small jar of local honey, a chai spice cookie and a bunch of zinnias. I admired the teddy bear sunflowers and vowed to get those next week.
Lest I forget, I got a soda straw ‘stick sampler' of buckwheat honey from the beekeeper guy who told me it's better than local honey for allergies. I loved the molasses-like taste of it and will buy a jar next week and that doesn’t have a single thing to do with the fact that the guy might have been flirting with me. It’s so hard to tell at my age! Either way it's a love doomed before it starts since I'm allergic to bees and he could terrorize me easily with one in a jar. Then germaphobic me got to worrying about how the guy gets the honey up those sample straws. I love Google! It has the answer to how ‘honey sticks’ are made. That question answered, I decided next Saturday I’ll flirt my way into getting a strawberry-honey stick sampler. You can roll your eyes here, knowing he probably gives them out to everyone. ©