Yesterday, like most days since our son left for college, I did not want to go to the grocery store. We needed very little, and truly I believed they were all things we could do without for the rest of our lives. The list was maybe seven items long. So I came to my senses and began negotiations with my husband.
“Do we really, really need mushrooms?” I demanded.
“Yes, if you want me to make this egg thing you love with the kale,” Mr. Wonderful answered.
“Can the rest wait?”
“Sure. For a few days,” he wisely stated. “Just drive me by the store, and I’ll run in while you wait.”
Done. I didn’t even wince or make a pucker face.
The routine when we get to the grocery store near our home – not the one near my business, which has another routine of its own – is that I drop him at the door and then circle the car to the west of the lot and watch for him to come out. Then, lazily, because I am off going to the grocery store right now, I pull up and pick him up and speed off. I am ‘fessing up right now to the fact that this has happened a great deal and not just yesterday. I am owning it.
But yesterday, when I pulled the car to the west of the lot and got out of the car, I bathed myself in the beauty of the two gorgeous, huge crab apple trees that grow along the embankment. I forget about them every year until I see them. The smell was of my favorite childhood home and the magnificent old crab apple tree that grew there.
Every spring that tree exploded with blooms that were massive. My sisters and I danced underneath it, shook its branches to be showered in petals, and pretended the petals were pink snow on the day every year when it gave up its finery for leaves. I remember my sister Casey being a “bride” underneath it, and the petals that cascaded down her dress were being “thrown” by the flower girl – not the older sister shaking the thickest branch.
If I had gone into the store – grumbling all the way while grasping my cotton grocery bags – I believe I would have missed this grandeur. Pure justification, I believe, for never entering a grocery store again.
What if I miss something? Something very important?
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That tree grew outside my bedroom window. It was magical in many, many ways.
You ladies are wonderful! AND, my husband does ALL the grocery shopping and really loves it. REALLY! : )
Beckie:
Thank you for reading our blogs and for taking time to send a note!
I used to enjoy grocery shopping – and I might again soon – but right now it holds no allure. My husband is not only a great “hunter and gatherer” but he is also a splendid cook. Look up lucky in the dictionary and you will see my smiling face. (He’s lucky to have me as well.)
Have a great rest of the week.
– sloane