Tag Archives: grocery shopping

Humming along

I had to go grocery shopping last night. That’s my exciting Friday night, grocery shopping. Isn’t middle-age fun?!

Although DD usually comes with me, she’d been working till 7 last night, so she said she didn’t feel like accompanying me. “Feel like”??? And I “feel like” spending an hour and a half most Friday nights dealing with food that I’m not currently eating???

Ah, well. We must eat, so I set off alone.

While in the deli section of our local supermarket, I saw the hummus. DD likes hummus a lot, so even though I was miffed that she wouldn’t get off her butt and come shopping with me, I texted her to ask if she wanted some hummus, since it was on sale. She affirmed that yes, she did. I suggested two cartons of the caramelized onion flavour, to which she enthusiastically agreed.

Then I looked at the sign again. I texted her back that I seemed to have made a mistake, that the brand with the caramelized onion flavour didn’t seem to be on sale. DD texted “LOL”, obviously not comprehending how I could make such a silly error.

But in my defense, this is the sign that confused me:

What does that even mean?!? Why are we talking about “tribes”? Are we referring to “shieks” as a type of container particular to hummus? Does this mean that two of these “shieks” of hummus make a “tribe”? Is this “tribe” being “assorted”? Is this actually any form of English? What the hell is going on with this sign anyway?!?

Clear as mud, no?

I gave up and didn’t buy any hummus.


Can you donate?

As you may or may not know, October is breast cancer awareness month. There are pink ribbons everywhere, lots of information out there, and many shops and services are requesting donations for breast cancer research.

I have several close friends and a few family members who have faced this devastating disease, and I’m happy to report that the majority of them have come through. All these women have shown courage and determination, and I’m proud to know all of them. They’ve all taught me something about how to live my life and how to face adversity.

Because of those women with whom I am personally acquainted, and especially because of the few who didn’t make it, I always donate to breast cancer. I mean, you never know if it will be your dollar that will tip the scales to fund some amazing research project that turns out to be THE one that finally comes up with a cure. And you never know if someday, YOU will need that support network.

Anyway, that public service message aside, I made a quick stop at my local supermarket yesterday just to pick up some milk. I’d done my big shop a few days prior, but somehow, we were close to running out of milk, so there I was.

I stood in the express line. Two people were ahead of me. The cashier, one that often checks me through, was efficient and obviously an old hand at the job. As she scanned each person’s first item, she asked, “Did you find everything you were looking for today?” as instructed by management, and at the last item, she asked, “And would you like to donate to breast cancer today?” Then final amount owing, then money exchanging hands, then “Thank you for shopping at our store” and on to the next customer.

When it was my turn, everything was moving along exactly like that … till she looked up at me, with my four litres of milk in her hand, and inquired, “And would you like to donate breast milk today?”

I looked at her. She looked at me. There was a short silence. Absolutely deadpan, she said, “Please tell me that I didn’t just ask you if you wanted to donate some breast milk.”

Another short silence. Then, “Yes,” I replied, “you did.”

She sighed. “You bought milk, I was thinking breast cancer, I put them together … I can’t believe I said that!”

I giggled. She ruefully shook her head and sighed again. “That’ll make a good story in the lunchroom, at least.”

And on my blog.

It’s just too bad that I couldn’t donate that particular day.


It rained this weekend. Quelle surprise, as we say in French. This is the Victoria Day long weekend, traditionally the first long weekend of the summer. And it has rained – oh, did I mention that already?

I spent Saturday doing housewifely things like vacuuming and washing clothes and scrubbing toilets. DD came home from her boyfriend’s place and immediately noticed that I had cleaned her bathroom as well as the other two. She timidly asked me if I was being benevolent or passive aggressive. I assured her that it was the former.

Late Sunday morning, PG and I went to his sister’s for brunch. She had invited other friends too. Her two kids were sick. There was a hockey game on at the ungodly hour of noon (ungodly for hockey, okay?). I wasn’t in the mood for all this, as I am quite serious about my hockey viewing and prefer to do it alone, or perhaps with PG if he promises to not talk too much. However, there was plentiful champagne and orange juice, plus homemade bread for the French toast, so I somehow managed to deal with it all. But then all I wanted to do was sleep. Yes, I am a really fun person.

Today, Monday, it has cleared up and we have actually seen the sun. DD and I went for a lovely walk this afternoon – right after I spent a zillion dollars at the grocery store. How can two people (occasionally three or four) need that much food??? And why is that food so damn expensive??? But as I left the checkout with my measly five bags of groceries, an official-looking man stopped me, addressing me by name. I looked at him suspiciously. His nametag said that he was the store manager. Okay. He’s probably harmless, I decided. He informed me that I am one of his store’s best customers. Well, yes, I agreed, I have been shopping there for about ten years. He went on to thank me profusely for shopping so regularly at his store, and told me that I now qualified as one of the store’s “Elite Customers”. I stood up a little straighter. This was getting interesting!

He handed me a brochure which detailed how I would now benefit, seeing as I was now an “Elite Customer”. In it was a card with his name and mobile phone number. If ever I needed anything or had a question or even a complaint, I was now permitted to call Mr Manager directly, and he assured me that whatever I said would be taken extremely seriously. In addition, I was now qualified to get refunds at the store without having to produce a receipt. Um – okay. I don’t believe that I have ever asked for a refund from any grocery store, receipt or no receipt. Still, nice idea.

I am also now able to get cash back on my debit card up to 300$, with no additional fees. Oh? People actually do that? When there is a bank machine right at the door of the store? But I always pay cash for my groceries, never debit. But again, nice idea.

I am guaranteed that any item I want will be in stock, and if it is not, an equivalent item will be substituted at the same price. I’ve never found that to be a problem at this store, but if ever the generic kidney beans, for example, are out of stock, I will certainly now ask for the name brand at the price of the generic brand.

I am entitled to 10% off the price of deli sandwiches and a dozen long stem roses – two items that I have never purchased at this store. However, if I wish to start, it won’t cost me the full amount, because I am an “Elite Customer”!

The best part of the deal is the 5ยข off per litre of gas at the gas bar. Now that is definitely something I can use! But, where IS the damn gas bar? Not at this store, that’s for sure. Oh – it’s 20 kms away. Wait – there’s another location 12 kms away. Neither one is on my way to or from anywhere I normally go. Well. Isn’t that nice, a discount that I won’t use because I would use up the savings getting there and back.

So being an “Elite Customer” is apparently not all it’s cracked up to be. But it’s okay. I have the store manager’s personal mobile phone number. I can call him and complain.