I really don’t like to shop

I really don’t like to shop

Many readers are going to find this strange, but I don’t like to shop. In fact, I would avoid it entirely if I didn’t have to purchase to survive. Being a dyed-in-the-wool Libran, I must weigh every purchase, pros and cons, costs and availability. When my decision is finally made, I want to go directly into the store, buy the item and bring it home. For the most part, I will be happy with the result because I have so carefully made my selection.

I really dislike going into stores and browsing. There are too many choices. For example, at the grocery store, I need a quart of plain white milk. There is an entire wall covered with everything from 0% to flax, acorn, buffalo and veggie milk. I have to hunt hard to find the plain, old stuff.

I use the little, computerized, hand-held gadget that assures I don’t have to wait in line. It took a little doing to convince myself to learn how to use it, but it has been worth it. Even though it speeds up the process and gets me out of there faster, there are still glitches.

Now here’s an odd thing: The other day as I was walking into the grocery, a woman I didn’t know approached me and said, “Here you go, Madam. Have a blessed day.” She handed me a piece of paper and walked off into the parking lot. Inside, when I looked at the paper, it was a sizable gift card to the store. I mean very sizable.

My first reaction was I don’t deserve this. There are people who need this much more than I do, people who must choose each item carefully, people who must do without. Then I realized this was a person who had chosen to do a good deed. That made her feel happy. I understood the feeling.

Years ago I promised my mother I would try to do a good deed every day, no matter how small or large. Now I will try to feel less angry about shopping at the grocery and pay it forward.

Recently, I have taken to shopping on the internet through Amazon. It is easy, and while I may pay a little more, it really does arrive the next day. Answer to my worries? Not quite. I discovered my one nonstick skillet was not sticking to its promises. After much investigation I ordered one from a company called Emura. It was 40 some dollars. When I got to the checkout, it said the cost was $192. I immediately canceled the order, and the cancellation was acknowledged.

The next day I received, all in one box, four such skillets on my front porch. Emura has refused to take the skillets back or to reimburse me. I am rich in skillets and poor in money, and I think in judgment. So if you are on my birthday or Christmas list, over 21, and still cook occasionally, this year you may receive one of those amazing skillets — and a reminder not to ever shop at Emura.

Speaking of cooking, thank you Scott D. for your column on accidents in the kitchen. Today, shortly after reading it, I would like you to add one more “don’t do.” Having just turned off the stove after boiling chicken for my “not too spoiled” dogs, I was pouring the broth into a quart canning jar to use for soup, when I heard a loud ominous crack. Surely this jar couldn’t have cracked. It is made specifically for hot liquids. Here is what you need to add, Scott: If you hear a crack, don’t pick up the jar to check it. The contents hit me full-on on my stomach and all over the cupboards and drawers below. I now sport a huge blister on my stomach that is not happy to be covered by clothing.

The only upside I can think of is the fat that had not yet been removed from the broth might bring some shine back to my cupboards. I really don’t care if my blister shines.

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