Friday, December 13, 2019
Went to Costco late this afternoon to pick up Christmas cards Celeste and I had ordered. Purchased gasoline there for $2.199/gallon, which was seven cents better than at the Mobil in Fjord. Phoned Dad from Costco, as he had mentioned several times in recent days that he was trying to remember something he wanted. He still couldn’t recall it. We named everything in the store, but no luck. We told Dad we were buying a dead chicken for our supper, and he said that was a good idea, he’d like one, too. Then Celeste asked if he would like a buck-and-a-half hot dog, and he said, Sure, that, too, would be a good idea, and he requested a “clear” soda. And how about a tub of potato salad, he suggested. We could split it, he said. Okay, we would look for it. But potato salad, we learned, is a “seasonal” item, and not this season. We’ll check again a couple of seasons from now.
In our car we placed the rotisseried birds in a thermal Shop-At-Aldi bag. When we arrived at the farm forty-five minutes later, the thick plastic liner of the thermal bag was nearly melted, and the chickens were still too hot for ungloved hands. Hot, too, when we got back to town. Juicy and dee-licious!
At Costco I exhausted an entire $60 Firestone Tires rebate VISA card on the very day the card arrived in the mail, hooray! In doing so, I may have set a new personal record for fiscal responsibility. C. and I purchased a little more than the gasoline, the Christmas cards, and the two big-as-a-basketball chickens, nothing especially exciting or excessively extravagant. Maybe overly sweet, though, some of the things, the cinnamon rolls, the Ghirardelli caramel squares. (Saturday Update: Yes, too sweet, both of those. So sweet that we haven’t finished them yet.)
Ask me on December 31 how I’m doing in my search for a promptly received and promptly misplaced VISA card, a rebate on a glucose meter I bought for Dad an estimated half-a-year ago. If I am lucky, I’ll find the card, will find it hasn’t expired, and will manage to clutch it tightly until I can carry it to Costco and squander it on bargains other than potato salad.
That’s my Friday report. Sleep well. Goodnight.