A friend recently suggested I write a recipe for this column. What a terrible idea, I said. So, of course, I immediately went to Thrifty’s to stock up on supplies.
I found that at the instant I entered the store I had utterly forgotten why I was there. Like, no idea.
Up till then, I had steely focus and a mission — and then my blower rang. I unwisely fielded a call not related to pork tenderloin. I suffered total data dropout. I looked heavenward and came up only with Error 404. Object not found. Apparently, I inadvertently locked myself out of the tiny cranial closet where my memorized shopping lists are stored. It shouldn’t really be a big deal because I top out at three line items, anyway.
Anything beyond three is “many”.
Anything beyond three is “many”.
$90 later I left with random things like Soya Sauce, an oven mitt, mechanically flaked and formed Chicken anatomy in a box decorated with illustrations of happy cartoon fowl. I know poultry cannot smile, but it fools me every time. There was some Devilled Ham so the dog and I can share a treat now and then, what turned out later to be a highly controversial quantity of Sardines, a foot high stack of frozen lasagnas (they were blowing them out at 3 for 1…I can’t remember exactly why I got 7), three unpronounceable, exotic cheeses – one of them made with Yak’s milk, because I felt suddenly ‘experimental’, and Extra Strength Tums.
I rolled my booty of all-sorts out the Volvo, only to discover the keys were nowhere to be found.
Two entire, chaotic hours later, after a full-blown search involving my children, passing strangers, a local town character named Flying Phil, a stray Tabby, the Mounties, and a huge yellow helicopter from 442 Search & Rescue Squadron, I felt sheer tectonic shock as I realized that my next story was going to be called “He’s An Idiot: How he found his missing car keys in his pants pocket where they’d been the whole time – Right next to his ‘mental shopping list’ .”
I think I might need a nap.
Random Note Generator 