There's a store/catalog: www.CCS.com where you can order skate stuff, including the skate gear. Crickles has been pondering which board, struts, etc. to get since Christmas. The person who lived here before us apparently had an older child (or her husband was into skating or such things; p'raps even herself!) and we started to thumb through the catalogs . . . eventually ordering helmets and tee-shirts ourselves. We are satisfied customers (their shipping is quite reasonable, considering everyone likes to tack on extra dollars when shipping here or AK). Location, location, location.
Anyhoo, the board is on its way in 8-10 days, but his grin will last a long time after it arrives!
Teenie is now asking for a helmet. There are worse things, I suppose.
On another topic, my husband is working weird hours this week so I'll be dragging butt right along with him. He goes in at 2am . . . and I have to get up and reset the alarm . . . and get up myself by 5:30am . . . I'm an exhausted heap of bones and fat today, folks. Long week.
Oh, good. Suffering is good. It's going to be Lent in a few short hours. The pancakes and syrup should sustain me!
And, who can sleep when someone's just had their baby girl and promises to post soon (w/ pictures). Congratulations!!! We think the new addition is grand!!
Showing posts with label grocery shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grocery shopping. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Grocery Gripes
Crickles now understands why I loathe grocery shopping.
- Even though at the commissary I do not pay tax, I pay a "surcharge" that is some times more than regular ol' tax.
- When I use Self-Check I want to commit suicide every time I scan something and I hear that damn woman's voice say, "The weight is not correct for that item" and I haven't even put the item in the bag that's on the scale yet!
- The "greeting" of Self-Check greeting me makes me want to pull my eyeballs out: "Welcome to Self Check out; it's easy to use . . . " ah, yeah, NO it's not!
- The person behind me in Self-Check almost always runs me over as I am putting my purchases in my cart so I can leave . . .
- Which leads me to say that the person in front of me always does.not.know.how.to.count 20 items! They always have more! Yes, I'm that "one" who counts! I won't even use the lane that indicates 20 or less if I have 21 items. I'm a stickler!
- I always always always put more in my buggy than I intend! And, not usually healthy things and with all that Christmas cookies and chocolate special tins out there I.am.lost.on.the.diet.front.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Father's Day
Today is a blessed day. Indeed!
I have been blessed by a father who stuck with it. My parent's marriage was rough around the edges in many ways (I think I mentioned this a bit in past posts so I won't drag you all through that again), but they stuck it out. Why? Number one: mum. She always said marriage is sacred and meant to be once-in-a-lifetime (twice, if you're lucky to meet someone special after the death of a spouse); and, mainly her faith in God. Eventually, dad quit drinking and things for everyone got much better. Last Easter (2008) my dad entered the Catholic Church. Their marriage gets better and better and I thank God for this every day.
Dad, you put up with an awful lot from the snot-nosed me. Thank you for forgiving me all the times I disappointed you. You're my hero in so many ways. Thank you for serving our country in your younger years. Thank you for working so hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table and clothes on our backs - and for all the fun stuff in-between. I love you dad!!
**********************************************************************
Okay, yesterday was another story.
We moved all our luggage over to the condo before about noon, I think. Two trips.
My husband and I drove off to get food and staples and just about everything you can think of needing after having nothing. I mean nothing. Nothing. Our cart was just about done getting filled up when the store announced they were having system problems "but to keep shopping while we fix it". Our kids were back at the condo with only water to put in their screaming bellies. Ah, yeah. We ditched our cart (after putting back stuff that would go bad - meat, milk, etc.) and stopped off at a mini-mart to get a few things to get us by until today (to the tune of $78 - bloody hell!)
We survived and made it to the commissary this morning. We have to go to Mass now, because we went this AM to the store while Teenie wasn't feeling well (the boys watched over her while we went).
Now I am slowly (due to the heat - with the AC on it's about 79 in here - cool when on one's arse, but quite sweaty when moving about briskly cleaning) cleaning counter tops and toilets. The cleaning team was supposed to clean this place before we moved in. They may have done some things, but there is grease (from frying, I suspect) on the stainless steel appliances . . . which will take a lot more elbow grease than I possess when it's 80+degrees outside and messing with the inside temps. It's expensive to run AC, so we are keeping a lid on it as much as we can. So, after we go to Mass (and hopefully pop in to see Holly), I'll clean the bathrooms. Fun, huh? Oh, yeah, and the toilets had dried drops of yellow stuff on them . . . barf-o-la! I cleaned them off once, but I gotta got back. Yeah? Yeah!
I went to Hilo Hatties today to get coasters. The owner has nice furniture and no coasters! So, now I have some nice coasters . . . and a few other tidbits I couldn't resist. Hey, 20% off for military ID holders at this store. Wow! It's usually just 10%, so guess who is a fan of Hilo Hatties? Ah, yeah: me!
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU DAD'S OUT THERE. MAY GOD CONTINUE TO RICHLY BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES.
I have been blessed by a father who stuck with it. My parent's marriage was rough around the edges in many ways (I think I mentioned this a bit in past posts so I won't drag you all through that again), but they stuck it out. Why? Number one: mum. She always said marriage is sacred and meant to be once-in-a-lifetime (twice, if you're lucky to meet someone special after the death of a spouse); and, mainly her faith in God. Eventually, dad quit drinking and things for everyone got much better. Last Easter (2008) my dad entered the Catholic Church. Their marriage gets better and better and I thank God for this every day.
Dad, you put up with an awful lot from the snot-nosed me. Thank you for forgiving me all the times I disappointed you. You're my hero in so many ways. Thank you for serving our country in your younger years. Thank you for working so hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table and clothes on our backs - and for all the fun stuff in-between. I love you dad!!
**********************************************************************
Okay, yesterday was another story.
We moved all our luggage over to the condo before about noon, I think. Two trips.
My husband and I drove off to get food and staples and just about everything you can think of needing after having nothing. I mean nothing. Nothing. Our cart was just about done getting filled up when the store announced they were having system problems "but to keep shopping while we fix it". Our kids were back at the condo with only water to put in their screaming bellies. Ah, yeah. We ditched our cart (after putting back stuff that would go bad - meat, milk, etc.) and stopped off at a mini-mart to get a few things to get us by until today (to the tune of $78 - bloody hell!)
We survived and made it to the commissary this morning. We have to go to Mass now, because we went this AM to the store while Teenie wasn't feeling well (the boys watched over her while we went).
Now I am slowly (due to the heat - with the AC on it's about 79 in here - cool when on one's arse, but quite sweaty when moving about briskly cleaning) cleaning counter tops and toilets. The cleaning team was supposed to clean this place before we moved in. They may have done some things, but there is grease (from frying, I suspect) on the stainless steel appliances . . . which will take a lot more elbow grease than I possess when it's 80+degrees outside and messing with the inside temps. It's expensive to run AC, so we are keeping a lid on it as much as we can. So, after we go to Mass (and hopefully pop in to see Holly), I'll clean the bathrooms. Fun, huh? Oh, yeah, and the toilets had dried drops of yellow stuff on them . . . barf-o-la! I cleaned them off once, but I gotta got back. Yeah? Yeah!
I went to Hilo Hatties today to get coasters. The owner has nice furniture and no coasters! So, now I have some nice coasters . . . and a few other tidbits I couldn't resist. Hey, 20% off for military ID holders at this store. Wow! It's usually just 10%, so guess who is a fan of Hilo Hatties? Ah, yeah: me!
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU DAD'S OUT THERE. MAY GOD CONTINUE TO RICHLY BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILIES.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
April First (already!)
I'm not in the mood to create a fine-tuned joke for y'all today 'cos I have to go to the da . . . dern store again today. Why? Theres.no.bread!!!!! Apparently, all three of my kids are eating the wheat bread now. Okay, I'm seriously happy about that. Squirrel Boy took to it straight away when I introduced it last year and yukked it up as healthier than white (which it is). Teenie and Crickles jumped on board with the loaf I just bought. So, I'm glad about it, but now I have to go and get bread, which means I'll pick up some other items we need so as to avoid going back before Friday morning (the planned date to grocery shop).
Anyone familiar with military commissaries will know exactly why I dislike them. The savings are hard to beat, yes, but aside from that, it's not a fun place for me to shop. Why? I'm flatly becoming one myself, but I'm going to put this out there (as lacking in charity as it may seem): the retirees. One day I, too, will be a "retiree", but I will.not.shop.at.the.commissary, even if there is one a block away. Most of them are ambling through the store at the rate of half an aisle an hour and block the way for those of us who want to steamroll through the joint. Of course, this may be the highlight of their day, but I have to seriously doubt that! I know seniors do more than "enjoy" the supermarket. At least, I hope so! I know they aren't in a hurry as they have learned what I need to learn: slow down, girlfriend. Then, there are those who come to "stock up". They have four trolleys between two people with one or two carts packed with all the meat deals. I usually spy pigs feet in there, too, which is totally disgusting!! I mean, they must like them then, because with all the money they are saving on the meat deals, they don't have to buy those! The commissary on pay day (which is today) is a living nightmare unless you get there early (which means, I need to shower and dress and be there in an hour - even to get my paltry list of under twenty) if you want a trolley and want to get in and out as fast as possible to avoid the lines. Yes, the lines. And, even that is not as bad as dealing with the baggers. I appreciate the baggers bagging my stuff, I really do, but: I'm sending the stuff down the conveyor belt in a methodical manner: pack my stuff together. Okay? And, if I am sending thirty cans of food down the belt, I don't want all thirty in one bag, got that? I swear to the Almighty, I haven't that kind of upper body strength! Nor do my children, who help me unload the van when I'm done.
One of the other problems I have about going in there is running into folks. I usually have to have near four to five solid conversation stops along the way. Folks I know, folks I don't know. I have this problem of letting people talk to me and then I start talking . . . I really need to perfect the "I'm not a therapist" syndrome and politely smile and move along.
So, today I am going only to get under twenty. I'd like to get all of it on my list and get it over with so I don't have to go back Friday, but the above just makes me want to bury my head in the sand. Okay, so maybe it isn't all that bad. Of course, it isn't! I just like to complain about it!
Happy April 1st to you all!
Anyone familiar with military commissaries will know exactly why I dislike them. The savings are hard to beat, yes, but aside from that, it's not a fun place for me to shop. Why? I'm flatly becoming one myself, but I'm going to put this out there (as lacking in charity as it may seem): the retirees. One day I, too, will be a "retiree", but I will.not.shop.at.the.commissary, even if there is one a block away. Most of them are ambling through the store at the rate of half an aisle an hour and block the way for those of us who want to steamroll through the joint. Of course, this may be the highlight of their day, but I have to seriously doubt that! I know seniors do more than "enjoy" the supermarket. At least, I hope so! I know they aren't in a hurry as they have learned what I need to learn: slow down, girlfriend. Then, there are those who come to "stock up". They have four trolleys between two people with one or two carts packed with all the meat deals. I usually spy pigs feet in there, too, which is totally disgusting!! I mean, they must like them then, because with all the money they are saving on the meat deals, they don't have to buy those! The commissary on pay day (which is today) is a living nightmare unless you get there early (which means, I need to shower and dress and be there in an hour - even to get my paltry list of under twenty) if you want a trolley and want to get in and out as fast as possible to avoid the lines. Yes, the lines. And, even that is not as bad as dealing with the baggers. I appreciate the baggers bagging my stuff, I really do, but: I'm sending the stuff down the conveyor belt in a methodical manner: pack my stuff together. Okay? And, if I am sending thirty cans of food down the belt, I don't want all thirty in one bag, got that? I swear to the Almighty, I haven't that kind of upper body strength! Nor do my children, who help me unload the van when I'm done.
One of the other problems I have about going in there is running into folks. I usually have to have near four to five solid conversation stops along the way. Folks I know, folks I don't know. I have this problem of letting people talk to me and then I start talking . . . I really need to perfect the "I'm not a therapist" syndrome and politely smile and move along.
So, today I am going only to get under twenty. I'd like to get all of it on my list and get it over with so I don't have to go back Friday, but the above just makes me want to bury my head in the sand. Okay, so maybe it isn't all that bad. Of course, it isn't! I just like to complain about it!
Happy April 1st to you all!
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