Tag Archives: shopping

Never let your husband bag the groceries.

 

We had to run to the grocery store for a prescription last night and I figured while we were there I’d pick up a few things.

They were still out of paper products, water and flour….

 

 

 

But all I wanted was fresh fruit and veggies anyway.

When we got to the check out line…. with the reusable bags no Mainer is ever without… we were told a new policy of self bagging had been implemented, so the husband happily jumped right in.

Yes, he put the bananas on top of the bread… and the apples on top of the lettuce but it wasn’t until we got home that the real fun began.

Did I buy oil?

No, but a large bottle came home with us.

Did I buy pistachios?

No, but they came home with us as well.

And while it was bad enough the husband rounded up and bagged someone else’s groceries? He also packed this in our bag….

 

 

Hand sanitizer.

But not another shopper’s sanitizer.

No….

 

 

He lifted one of the store use bottles they keep at each register.

Do not let your husband bag groceries.

Really…

Don’t.

Day 15… Small bathrooms and antique store Hell, where River reexamines how much she really loves her husband.

 

I woke up on our last full day of vacation in Williamsburg, Virginia  (Yes, we’re finally there!)  cursing our second resort’s small bathrooms.

 

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I mean… come on.

For a girl with big hair this is a very small space to make the magic happen.

And the shower?

 

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One teeny tiny shelf!

I had to put the rest of my things on the floor.

 

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We started the day at the husband’s favorite breakfast spot where he was now greeted with ”The guy who wants two plates of chipped beef on toast is here”.

 

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And seeing that we’d had 2 full weeks of doing everything I wanted to do, I thought it prudent to throw the husband a bone and let him pick our last day’s activities.

 

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As expected, that bit me in the ass.

 

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He chose the Williamsburg Antique Mall… and let me tell you, that’s a whole lotta mall.

I have never in my life seen so much  useless crap  stuff  in one place. It went on forever, aisle after aisle after aisle. The husband was in heaven.

 

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Oh, there were some interesting things.

 

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And some seriously hideous things.

 

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It was hard, but I managed to pass on this quartz rooster head.

 

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And the Christmas tree in a shoe.

 

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But damn, at the one hour mark we’d only managed to cover a little corner of the place.

 

 

The building was so huge it had push button call stations for help because it was too damned long a walk back to the front to find a sales clerk.

 

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Two hours in there was a drunken Santa….

 

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And some of the money the husband used during the Vietnam War.

 

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Three hours in there was a pair of wolves on skis…

 

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The ice cube trays I cursed with every breath as a child….

 

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And some questionable artwork complete with psychedelic chickens.

 

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Four hours in there were Civil War era hats and a saleslady who gave me a piece of paper to write down the aisle number, the booth number, the case number and a description of each article we had questions about because no one ever remembers what was where. If you look in the upper left hand corner of the picture you’ll see my hand clutching it.

And no, I wasn’t going to give it to the husband …. I’m not stupid.

The husband?

Happier than the proverbial pig in shit.

 

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Rusty tools….

Rusty tools everywhere!

 

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I passed on more vintage chickens.

 

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And wondered who this wide eyed Santa was going to poke with that…. that….

Whatever the heck that was.

At the four and a half hour mark I had to use the rest room.

 

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Where I did indeed flush my hopes and dreams of ever leaving this place down the toilet.

 

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There was definitely something for everyone.

 

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Even if some of the price tags made you gasp.

Five hours in I told the husband I was too hungry to continue and we needed to go get some lunch.

 

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Yeah.

My worst nightmare came true….

They had a cafe.

 

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Where we had tiny overpriced sandwiches and frozen solid fruit to fortify us for more hours of antique shopping.

 

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It was at this point I knew we’d never leave.

I was doomed.

 

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Too late for that warning…. the husband has had it for years.

 

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He was bound and determined to see every last item in this store or die trying.

And by this time I was happily planning his demise.

 

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Yikes.

Paging Morticia Addams….

 

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And holy crap.

Who in their right mind wants that hanging on their wall?

 

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Six hours in I found a bug collection….

 

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Some chicken humor…

 

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And part of the line to check out.

These people took a number…. and have probably been waiting since June 13, 1976.

 

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But the husband was still going strong.

 

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And if I told you how many rusty old pesticide sprayers we have in the barn already? You’d fear for my safety.

 

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Here’s proof positive there’s a magazine for everything.

 

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And a painting that contains fish bones.

You’re welcome.

 

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SEVEN HOURS  in and we weren’t even 2/3’s of the way through.

 

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I knew he wasn’t going to leave without buying something, but by then I’d reached my limit of  utterly useless crap  antique shopping.

I was on board with the old phone. It could have been fun in the barn…. when he builds that bar he keeps talking about.

You know, the bar he can’t build because he has too much utterly useless crap  stuff in the way.

 

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Eight hours in?

I was silently screaming FFS….just pick something and let’s go!

Or maybe I said it out loud, I can’t remember.

 

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So there it is, the result of 8 hours of antique mall shopping.

A giant glass water bottle to add to the other 20 or so giant glass water bottles he currently has collecting cobwebs.

 

 

I love him.

I do.

And as long as I keep telling myself that I’ll be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s official….

 

The end really is near.

 

L.L. Bean closing all U.S. stores amid coronavirus concerns

This is the first time in history that the Flagship stores in Freeport will close for more than 24 hours

L.L. Bean is closing all U.S. retail locations beginning midnight Monday through March 29 out of precaution for the spread of coronavirus, COVID-19, L.L. Bean President and CEO Steve Smith said in a press release Monday. 

 

Yes… the store that’s open 24/7 seven days a week, Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas…. is closing.

 

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For those of you who don’t live in Maine? ( I’m sorry, you really should.)

Or are unfamiliar with L.L. Beans? (Where have you been, under a rock?)

THEY NEVER CLOSE!

Ever.

It’s kind of their thing.

They don’t even have locks on their doors!

Of course this is huge news up here as they employ like half the state…. so I can only surmise one thing.

We’re doomed.

The end is truly near….

It’s been nice knowing you.

 

 

 

 

 

So now I know.

 

I went grocery shopping this morning….

And I now know what we will all be doing during the virus apocalypse.

 

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Baking.

Because there wasn’t a freaking bag of flour for miles.

 

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There was beef, but no chicken.

Tissues, but no paper towels.

Ham, but no bacon.

Macaroni, but no spaghetti.

You never know what will disappear next. Although I did notice there was plenty of kale…. which makes it official.

If all that’s left on the shelves is kale? I will starve to death.

 

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Now that the apocalypse has begun…..

 

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I really don’t understand this latest panic, but it’s happening… as witnessed by these pictures sent to me by a friend in Pennsylvania.

 

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Her husband went to Wal Mart and felt like he won the lottery.

 

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Which makes me very glad I took advantage of the sale our local grocery was running a few months ago.

 

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Bring it Covid-19.

We’re ready!

 

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Day 11….love notes, breakfast, a liquor store and last minute Christmas shopping in Colonial Williamsburg.

 

The eleventh day of our vacation started at our timeshare resort condo…

 

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Where I found this:

 

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A note from the grandchild of our hearts.

Sorry… but there’s no way better way to start the day than that.

 

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Although biscuits and gravy with home fries comes close.

We had a full day of Christmas gift shopping ahead of us and needed hearty sustenance. And in the south?

 

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That includes the options of scrapple, fried catfish, grits or bologna and eggs.

The husband’s utterly favorite breakfast is chipped beef on toast and he rarely finds it in Maine… so when we stumbled on the Southern Pancake and Waffle House in Williamsburg?

 

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He wanted to go every morning…. which we pretty much did from then on.

 

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But hey, there were chickens in every window so how could we lose?

Our first stop that day was a liquor store in anticipation of our upcoming Christmas Day in North Carolina.

For future reference…. the first way to tell you’re in a liquor store in the south?

 

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There’s a still.

 

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Still searching for that silly wine filter, I thought we could try Merchant’s Square…. which is the shopping section of Colonial Williamsburg I couldn’t get the husband to check out the previous week.

 

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As with all areas there, it was lovely.

 

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Filled with interesting high end shops… like this interior design place.

 

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Giant double diamond ring light fixture anyone…?

 

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We happily strolled aroiund, ducking in and out of the stores with all the other desperate  Holy crap it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have a gift!   shoppers.

Naturally I had to buy a souvenir tee shirt –

 

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Truer words were ne’er spoke.

 

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And towards late afternoon when my stomach started grumbling?

This happened.

 

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Someone saw the husband’s Marine Corps hat, said Semper Fi, and they were off….

 

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On a 38 minute long conversation about who was stationed where, when and with whom.

Yes. I timed it….

 

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While he talked?

 

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I walked.

 

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Agreed wholeheartedly with a sign.

 

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And explored a little more…

 

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Of the colonial town.

 

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And hey, if you’re going to dress up in period costume and stand on the sidewalk?

 

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Don’t give me the stink eye when I take your picture.

Turning back around hoping the other half had finished talking…

 

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I saw snow.

 

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Granted it wasn’t very much, but it surprised me to see any at all.

 

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The ice skating rink surprised me as well.

 

 

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In Maine we wait for ponds to freeze over.

 

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In Virginia they just build one… and how they keep it frozen in 60 degree temperatures is a mystery to me.