encounters at the grocery store

So, I was at my local Kroger tonight, looking for molasses.  I looked all over the baking isle, which is where I thought it would be, but I couldn't find it.  So then I thought it was probably in the syrup section, but I couldn't find that either.  I thought it would be by the pancake section, but that was also the baking isle and, well, now we're back where we started.  As it was after 10, there wasn't much in the way of people to ask, other than stockers and even those were few and far between.

Finally I found a young kid who looked promising.  (Now, before I tell this story, I just want to say that he was very young - maybe 18 tops - and probably didn't have much baking experience especially with molasses.)  I asked him where I might find some molasses and he looked at me a second, puzzled.  Then he put his hand up to his mouth and said, miming, "Like for smoking?"

And really, who among us hasn't thought of smoking molasses at one point or another in our lives?  I dare say we all have.  I was spared answering the question (forever leaving myself to wonder if we were both indeed thinking of the same kind of molasses) when another woman walked by, who I could ask.  (And, by the way, I was right - it was in the syrup section, which was in the cereal section, which I really should have thought of.  I guess.)

So, I happily checked out and as I was leaving, another young man nearly ran over me.  But he apologized by raising his case of beer and saying, "Cheers to you!"  Then looking closer at my bags he said, "Oh wait - that's not beer you have.  It's cling wrap.  Well, cheers anyway!"

the return

I have some GREAT news for you! Kristin and Erin's online book club is back after a many months hiatus (my fault).  So head on over and check it out.

Kristin and Erin's online book club.

team edward 4 life!!

Okay, you and I both know I'm not a Twilight fan.  But I have to say I'm definitely on "Team Edward" because I have the most amazing brother-in-law in the world: Todd Edward Gardner.  He is my favorite brother-in-law, by far.  Most of it is, of course, how he treats my sister, Lydia.  (Originally I wrote Bella there, but it creeped me out too much, so I changed it back to Lydia, as it should be.)  He loves her oh so very much and takes the best care of her.  He can see her for the wonderful woman that she is and he makes sure she know she loves her.  It is a wonderful thing for me, as her sister, to see.  On top of that, he's just a fun guy to be around.  He integrated himself into our slightly crazy family and accepts each one of us for who we are.  From the very beginning it seemed like he was already a part of the family that we'd been missing and I don't know how we did without him.  So, here's to Todd Edward!  Thanks for being so great.

(But, don't get a big head... you can move into second place brother-in-law at any moment if you slip up, and you know we'll be watching you.)

Heart!

(Note: I currently only have one brother-in-law.)

number 8 on the list of things not to do at a cemetery

I went to Utah this last weekend.

(To my Utah friends: I know, I know.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming.  I was really only there Saturday and Sunday and I knew I wouldn't have time to see you, so I didn't tell you.  Please forgive me.)

On Sunday,  my two sisters who live in Utah, Lizzy and Lydia, and I decided to go up to Brigham City and visit dad.  It was the first time I've been up there since he was buried.  At that time, we hadn't gotten the headstone yet and I wanted to see it.  And I just wanted to visit him.

The evening before, I went to a wedding reception.  They had flowers on the tables with vases that they said we could keep, so I took a vase and a few flowers to bring up to put on the grave.  But the vase was very light and after putting it on the grave, it kept tipping over.  After one of the tippings, I said I should probably take the vase anyway because there was a sign upon entering the cemetery that said not to bring glass or wire onto the grounds.

"What?" said Lydia.  "This isn't glass!  It's plastic - watch!"

And before we could stop her, she took the vase and hit it against the cement at the base of the headstone, whereupon it promptly shattered as it was, in fact, glass, spilling flowers, water, glass and little blue pebbles all over the ground.

The three of us looked on in shock for a second and then burst out laughing.

"Well, that solves the problem of the vase," I said.

"At least it was on mom's side and not dad's," Lydia said.

At least, indeed.  We left the flowers sans vase by the headstone, thinking dad probably wouldn't care if there was a vase or not.  Or even if there were flowers.

Lessons learned:
- When your sister tells you that a vase is made of glass, maybe find some way to test that other than breaking the vase on your father's grave, even though dad probably laughed just as hard as we did.