Not sure I saw this exact display,
but something close.
A wonderland of fresh fruit and vegetables,
meat and seafood
This
morning, for the first time since the beginning of quarantine, I went to a
grocery store. I cannot tell you how much fun that was. Lots of people moan and
groan about grocery shopping, but I love it. I am sorely tempted to put about
half the store in my basket, and I love browsing the shelves, studying the
possibilities. This morning, Mary Dulle took me—it was a belated birthday
present—and we went to Whole Foods because I have never been there since the store
opened in Fort Worth. Had been once to the downtown Whole Foods in Austin, but
it was so big it seemed a jumble. The Fort Worth store was just right.
Because
I had a gift certificate, I was determined to splurge—and I did. On a boneless,
butterflied leg of lamb. Brought it home and froze it, but some Sunday night
when we want to have a special family dinner, I’ll either marinate and ask
Christian to grill it or stuff and roll it. Either way sounds wonderful.
Other
than that, I bought chicken and pork chops for our dinners this week,
vegetables—and buttermilk. Can’t remember now what I plan to cook with it, but
I got a quart because I love to drink it.
Bonus
was that Mary and I had fun talking groceries and food. I drove one of those handicapped
carts and had a ball—been so long since I’d done that, I was afraid I’d lost me
skills, but I’m still a good driver.
The
downside of the day has to do with printers and computers. My printer has been
printing four-color in all yellow. So I called the chat thing at Hewlett
Packard and they connected me with a service technician. Obviously outsourced,
heavy accent, hard for me to understand. After taking over my computer and doing
a bunch of exploring (all of which I was watching most carefully), he announced
my printer is fine, but the problem was with my computer. I had a trojan that
took control of my computer, and I needed network security—i.e. a firewall,
which this guy would install. At that point, I became really wary—I wanted him
to fix my printer, not mess with my computer. And I couldn’t ever be sure what
he was saying, because of his accent and my poor hearing.
I
discontinued the call and called Brandon, the son-in-law who is a software consultant.
He said bluntly the computer tech was either a scammer or a moron—the more I
told him, the more he leaned toward the latter. I do not need a firewall; I
have an active one. There is no way a computer problem would make a printer go
yellow.
Big
problem, the “moron” had uninstalled the printer with assurances he would
re-install, which he didn’t do. So Brandon took control of my computer, and we
worked an hour and a half. He finally said, re-boot the computer and see if it
works. It didn’t. So tomorrow we start all over again. The printer is obviously
functional, it just doesn’t talk to the computer.
By the
time we called it quits, Mary and Prudence were here for our regular happy
hour, and I was more than ready for a glass of wine. We had a lavish spread—I particulary
enjoyed some smoky Swiss Mary brought me and some marinated goat cheese she’d
done for a continuing education class on drinks and front-porch snacks.
And
then I cooked chicken thighs for supper—a garlicky lime version which took
longer to prepare than I thought. It was eight o’clock before we ate supper. Pardon
me if I’m worn out tonight.
A good
day but a difficult one. Topsy-turvey indeed. Hope yours was right-side-up all
day!
