Skip to main content

Drama at Costco

I don't know about you, but the older I get, the more I find myself using some of my Mother's favorite idioms, or I guess that's what you call sayings such as, "that's like the pot calling the kettle black."
So, that's one of them, but there are lots more like it, including one of which I spoke to our outdoor pets just the other day. Outdoor pets, you ask? The birds, who as my late Mother would say, "are eating us out of house and home!" Well, perhaps that's a bit of an exageration, however, since the blue jays have come to town, the seed is going down dramatically. I took this one day,
and the very next day it looked like this:
which, I suppose doesn't give you the full picture, but this one does.
So, as you can see, a pretty substantial drop. When you multiply this by two feeders the same size, as well as "The Nuttery", out front,
and pretty soon you are out of a 20 pound bag of bird seed! Actually, I'd been buying smaller bags, running out pretty quickly, until I discovered the big boy bag at Costco, thus, I went there this morning, and it was so traumatic I had to write it down while the experience was fresh.

I'm fairly confidant that I've only ever lost my keys once before, which, if you measured that trauma with today's, the previous one wins hands down. In this blog space, the story may have been told previously, but since I can't remember, it's a cinch you won't either.

It had to have been at the very least 25 years ago, that one lovely day, the boys and I went for a day of fun at Rock Springs. (cue old photo I took there)
As you can see, the water is crystal clear, which is great, but it did not help us in this instance! Out of the blue, a big summer rainstorm came up; gathering our things, all five of us made our way to my old white Chevrolet station wagon, mostly concerned with getting out of the rain. Except, once we arrived, I could not find my keys. Naturally we looked through everything, and on everybody, with no luck. Now, this is a pretty good sized park, and to lose your keys is just plain awful. Mostly I remember the boys, and they were all young back then, swimming through the springs searching for the keys. Bruce was out of town, so calling him for help was not an option. To make this long story short, after some serious panicking, eventually, or so I recall, we went to the ranger station, where, lo and behold, someone had turned them in. Whew!! All's well that ends well, however, it was so terrible, I'll never forget it.

So, it was not without precedent, that, after my shopping was complete, I rolled my laden cart to the BMW, which I've driven more in the last few months than the previous seven years, a story for another day. My heart sunk when I started rummaging in my bag for the keys, finding none. Only recently had I attached the key fob for the Beemer on my MINI key ring with the Honda, our house key, and a key to Bill's house completing the set. With a heavy heart, I walked back into the store asking the greeter woman if anyone had returned some keys. No, but ask at the service counter. Sure thing.

After waiting patiently for the woman to finish her task, I eventually broke in, saying I did not mean to be rude, but I was slightly panicky because I'd lost my keys. Turning to the rack with lost and found items, she asked if the one set she saw was mine. Sadly, not. Her suggestion?  Retrace your steps in the warehouse while she watched my cart. And so I did. No dice.

Back to the counter, back to the car, looking above, below and beside the car. Nope. I asked another door guy who said someone had turned in Honda keys, let's go look. Same thing, the woman said the set she'd already shown me was it. So, I had no choice but to call Bruce who is working at Church Street today. As I was leaning against my cart, telling him my saga, I noticed some keys on the very top shelf. "I'll call you back honey!" You know he was already trying to figure out how he was going to rescue me when I had the great pleasure of calling him back with the good news that the keys I spotted were indeed mine!!! 

Thank you, thank you, thank you, good Samaritan, wherever you are. Not so big a thanks to the Costco worker....the keys were nice and cold telling me they had been sitting there for quite some time. If only she had looked further...

Of course the fault was mine for dropping them, but still, if she'd looked a wee bit harder, it would not have been nearly as dramatic, nor taken as long. Now, to never, ever let that happen again!

Thinking of again, I don't remember when it was exactly, but one Sunday a yellow Swallowtail butterfly decided to hang around on one of the front palms for a good long while, and naturally I took photographs. Oops, I've just found it in my photo library, it was March 2013, and it was not a palm at all but a tomato plant. At any rate, this time, like last, it stayed as still as could be for more than an hour. How much longer, I can't tell you, but when I left for the market it was still there.
 Generally these type of butterflies beat their wings like crazy while feeding, so it is very odd indeed, to see one so still, and for SO long. I called it a yellow one which, no doubt, is confusing you, as what you are seeing is plainly black. Well, when the wings are up, it looks like this:
I was hoping this would have turned out better, but it does show you what I wanted, even if it's not so great!

The reason we noticed the butterfly is because after all those dry days, we finally turned on the sprinkler system, which in turn showed us yet another leak out front!! Poor Bruce,
holding a chunk of sprinkler pipe. While I was selling at the market, he spent three hours digging in the dirt. Upon my return, after hastily shutting down in the rain, the front walk looked as if nothing had ever happened.

Later I told Brucer, "wonder what in the heck I did all these years when you were traveling?" Finally, the back pain our resident handy guy was experiencing for two weeks is finally subsiding. Or so we hope.
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Garment Sewing Continues

A headline I read online, from one of the local news outlets, caught my attention: "2017 Homicides in Vancouver on the Rise", or something to that effect. Thinking it might be worth reading, I checked it out learning that there have been 17 homicides here in 2017. No wonder a local homicide gets plenty of attention! Contrast that to the 84 so far this year in Orlando, and you'll get a notion why I feel so safe here.

For the record, there are still beautiful leaves to be seen, they have not all fallen, but lots of them sure have. The Japanese Maple trees are outstanding with such intense color it is hard to imagine.
The park workers, on the other hand, are working mighty hard to keep the lawns mostly leaf free.
In spite of the dire weather prediction for the week, we've had no rain until today, and what we are having is very minimal; good news for me as I'm taking Baxter to the vet in about 45 minutes. I'm not wishing it to be true, however, there must be some…

Winter is Coming

Early on in this adventure, I expressed my apprehension to Irene about what it would be like in the winter. Not surprising, having never been through winter as an adult because surely what we have in Orlando is clearly not what people think of when they think of winter. She assured me that it comes on gradually, so I would have time to get used to it. She did not, however, tell me that winter oftentimes, at least in the Pacific Northwest, means fog. How exciting then to experience such dense fog, even if it was kind of spooky and weird. When one gets to be a certain age, having new experiences is just the ticket to keep one on their toes.  I decided I would be remiss if I did not show you one of the most famous sights in Stanley Park, the totem poles, in this instance, shrouded in fog.
The plaque below explains some of their meaning, however, I am somewhat surprised that they have not changed this because using the term Indian is no longer acceptable in Canada. Either Indigenous or Ab…

Oh Baxter, Our Baxter

Just when we thought things could not get any harder with Baxter, they have.
We've managed to live with the wetting inside the house using the trusty "elder dog wrap", or that's what Bruce calls it anyway. Now however, he's begun defecating in the house and it is not good. During Matt and Tom's visit, one day we were gone for a long time, so although we'd hoped he'd wait until we returned, he didn't. That we could understand, however, for several weeks now, when we take him outdoors he goes a smidgen, then, when we are gone, he goes a lot inside, more particularly on the nice big rugs that don't belong to us. Now what?

Well, next we decided to shut him in the bedroom where his bed is located, and that is why I went looking for an additional water bowl so he'd have one handy. At least, in there, the floors are wood. One day, I left without shutting the door and you can guess what happened. It gets worse. He looks so spiffy in the photo abov…