We did enjoy our hot and yummy chowder along with a slice of leftover pizza for dinner...The sun hitting our south windows helped to warm the house before dipping behind Chief Joseph Mountain around 2:30...Only 15 more days until the Winter Solstice and our days start to lengthen and winter officially begins...Hugs to All...OWAV:)
Take a peek at my essay...
Those years Mom and Aunt
Jessie lived near each other in Bountiful, both in their late seventies, they
shopped for groceries together each week. Mom
drove a 57 Chevy, Aunt Jessie a 62 Cadillac.
One morning, Mom answered the phone on the second ring, as Aunt Jessie
said, “Are you ready to go shopping?”
“Of
course,” answered Mom, “I’ve been ready for a half hour, where are you?”
“I’m leaving the house right now,” said Aunt
Jessie, “You better be ready.”
On that
sunny April morning, Aunt Jessie wheeled into the driveway and Mom hurried into
the car. “Shall we go to Smith’s Foods
or Reams first?” asked Aunt Jessie.
“Let’s
go to Smith’s,” Mom said. “They have turkey hinds on sale and we want to get
there while the selection is still good.”
The
year was 1985; interest rates were at an all time high, and a recession just
around the corner. Both ladies had
gardens, berry bushes and fruit trees.
They canned and stored everything they could for winter, but they were
always looking for a bargain. The pastel polyester pantsuits they wore were
sewn in the latest style and fashioned by their own hands. Their striking gray,
almost white hair teased and smoothed into a bouffant. Dressier shoes relegated
to the closet, they now wore tennis shoes, finding comfort more important than
looks.
Aunt Jessie slowed down as she pulled into
Reams parking lot, looking for an empty space. Every spot close to the front
door was filled. “Great, said Aunt
Jessie, I knew we should have come here first, now we will have to park in the
back by the dumpsters.”
“It
won’t hurt us to walk.” Said my Mom. “The boys will carry our groceries to the
car.”
“Okay
we’ll walk, but remember our knees aren’t what they use to be.”
Inside
the store, each with a cart, they carefully compared prices, filling their
carts only with sale items. Back in the parking lot, groceries loaded, Aunt
Jessie was ready to start the car when Mom said, “Jessie look, isn’t that a
watermelon in that box next to the dumpster?”
“It
looks like a watermelon to me and a perfectly good watermelon at that.”
It didn’t take long for both ladies, bad knees
and all to get out of the car, scoop up the watermelon with only one little rotten
spot on the end, load it into the trunk before leaving the parking lot. Back home the watermelon was divided in half
and I’m sure, to them, it tasted better than the forbidden fruit in the Garden
of Eden. Mom
told me about this little escaped over the phone, announcing they planned to go
back in a few days to see what else they could find.
That
was the beginning of Mom and Aunt Jessie’s dumpster diving. Now instead of
polyester pantsuits, they wore blue jeans. They went in the cool of the evening
on the days the dumpster was quite full.
This made it easier for them to reach things, but soon they were scaling
the side of the dumpster because the good stuff was always just out of reach.
No comments:
Post a Comment