Days I take my mother shopping are days I'm going to be worn out.
I drove down to my parents' place around 7 this morning. I had a bit of business with my friend, and Bevboy's blog reader, Heidi. She had seen that I had the complete National Geographic on cd rom (and 3.5 inch diskette, and 5.25 diskette, and 8-inch diskette, and magnetic tape, and punch cards, and even paper copies!) and expressed an interest in the cd rom version. We agreed on a price, and I dropped them off to her at her work this morning.
From there, or "thence" as they used to say, I drove to my parents' place to take my mother shopping. As per usual, they had two grocery lists, each as long as a politician's nose on the day before an election.
Mom and I left for our trek around 9:30. On the way to New Minas she said that she wanted to buy a certain gift for her older daughter, my older sister, for her birthday, and could I help her locate this particular item? In the Lawtons, while I was picking up my father's prescription, I whipped out my BlackBerry, fired up the amazon.ca link on it ("thereon", as they used to say) and found this item in about 3 minutes. Another 90 seconds, and it was ordered, and it will arrive here sometime next week. My mother marveled at her son, and at what other wonders my BlackBerry has ("possesseth", as they used to say). Mom, just wait until I am eligible for the new model in a month or two!!
Of course, my mother bought out the local Superstore again. She calls the managers a few days ahead of time, so that they can get on the horn and get in an emergency order of Becel margarine, frozen concentrated orange juice, and hearth bread.
(No. I don't know what hearth bread is, either. My parents have a hearth, and I never see any bread on it. Either someone's breaking into the house on a regular basis and stealing it, my parents are eating it, or "hearth" bread is a metaphor for something that I haven't been able to figure out yet. Long-time readers will remember that I have a hard time with metaphors at the best of times, and for the longest time thought Ginuwine's "Pony" was a song about horses. It's a long story, and your best bet is to find those earlier posts.)
We had lunch at the Old Gummer's Restaurant, a.k.a. The Big Stop. The sameness of the food is what appeals to my parents. It drives me crazy. I ordered the roastbeef dinner, which tasted the exact same as it did the last time I ordered it 18 months ago. It was probably from the same cow. My mother had the turkey dinner, 2 weeks after Christmas. Have I ever mentioned how my parents have a conservative palate?
After the sumptuous repast, I dropped Mom back off at Superstore. The managers tried to prevent her from entering on the basis that there was no food left to be purchased after her last visit, but she saw a few morsels on the floor and demanded to be able to buy them. They had no choice but to let her in. My car was groaning under the weight of all the food we'd bought earlier in the morning, so the plan was that I would drop it off at the house, replace the struts in the front end, and return to New Minas in time for Mom to get two-thirds of the staff to wheel out the remaining victuals she would have purchased while I was gone.
I did that, and also delivered to my father the pan-fried haddock that we'd bought for him at The Big Stop. I threw the perishables in the freezer or fridge and returned to New Minas to find my mother lunging at another woman who was defensively holding a can of beans that my mother wanted. I separated the two after a few minutes, but my mother got a few good licks in, as well as that can of beans.
She paid for the groceries. The bill was bigger than the gross domestic product of some third world nations. We rented a truck to transport the food home. We stopped off to buy some grape fruit. I went to the mall to find a page a day cat calendar, and was successful in doing so. I bought a couple of sandwiches for them at the Tim's. We returned to the house. I caught my breath for a few minutes and left them to return here, checking out the butcher shop in my home town and the bistro next door.
I am back in the city, but pretty pooped after my adventures of the last 14 hours or so. I will go to bed early so that I can get up early and interview someone for the blog. It is another radio person, and isn't that a stretch for me? I'll actually be in studio with her during her show. I've always wondered what jocks do during a long set of music; I guess the answer is: They're being interviewed by someone. Mystery solved.
I have been checking my cameras and camcorder this evening to make sure that there is enough room on them to take all the pictures and shoot all the video I'll need tomorrow. I will charge the batteries in the cameras. I'll grab the tripod. I'll make sure, as I always do, that I am as prepared for this interview as I am for any of them.
This post has gone on too long already, but I'll tell you about some of the cool things I'm trying out to make the interviews better, tomorrow. Things that you wouldn't know about, but which make my life easier, and which should improve the quality of the final product.
Have a good one, my friends.