It's all very lovely, but my back muscles are already bracing for the shoveling. Also, my potted sage and thyme had been eking out the final days of their lives near the garage, but now it looks like curtains for my herbs for the season. So I'll have to return to Festival for a sack of sage before Wednesday.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Shopping and First Snow
First, a spot of good news: I saw the first copy of Driving Sideways that included my AUTHOR PHOTO in the back! And here I thought they forgot. Aw, gee. Now I'm all warm and fuzzy. (Or is it the booze?)
This weekend I spent some time shopping, which reminded me that sometimes, despite the crowds and germs and lines and other irritating hindrances, in-person shopping can be preferable to online. How else would I have seen the woman--despite the 25 degree temperature--in short shorts and high heels at Fleet Farm? And how else would I have seen the woman in fur, crimped hair, heeled clogs and baggy gray sweatpants at Target? And finally, I would have missed such a delightful exchange between a forty-something woman and her eighty-something male companion (her father perhaps?) in line to check-out at Festival Foods. As they loaded their purchases onto the conveyor belt, she turned to him and said, "How are you at sacking?"
He was wearing a hearing aid, and the store was quite loud, so you can't blame him for saying, "What?"
"How are you at sacking?" she repeated.
He looked puzzled. "What?"
"SACKING," she said again, patiently but loudly. "How are you at SACKING?" This time, she accompanied her question with some awkward hand gestures.
He appeared to get it. "Oh. BAGGING."
Now here's what I'm wondering. Who refers to this process as sacking? The guy at the end of the line is not called the "Sack Boy." (Although don't you kind of wish he was?) The guy at the end of the line, the one carelessly tossing pineapples and gallons of milk on top of your eggs, is called a "Bag Boy." Because you BAG your groceries. You do not SACK them. You can sack a quarterback, but you can't sack a can of Spam.
This is the rule.
Also, look what we woke up to this morning: