5 for Friday: I was going to write something nice...but then I went to the grocery store.

 

Happy Holidays and welcome to December 15.  That's right. You have 9 legitimate shopping days (and one day to pick up stuff at Kwik Trip) for Christmas.  If you're ordering from anywhere other than Amazon, don't bother, it won't get here in time.  Wrap a picture of it and put that under the tree. If you're ordering from Amazon, you MIGHT get it in time...but you should probably pay for the super-premium shipping just to be safe.

Your best hope at this point is to shop old school. Get in your car and drive someplace. (If you haven't seen the latest "5 Below" ad for their store, that's what I imagine people doing right now.)  

Me?  Oh, I started shopping in June. I have a chart that I keep for exactly what got everyone last year, what I got them this year. I make sure people have the same number of gifts under the tree, befitting their relationship to me.  Skippy and Peaches have the same number as Hubby.  Children's partners have the same number as each other. Nieces and nephews have the same number of gifts as each other.  I even have a box of "just in case" gifts wrapped and ready to go in case someone I'm not aware of shows up on my doorstep Christmas morning.

Don't be jealous.  I haven't baked a thing. I've got premade cookie dough out on the counter waiting for me to do something, anything with it. I doubt I'll do anything.  I've already informed Hubby there will be no homemade Kringle this year.  Also, I'm thinking Christmas Eve dinner is going to be Pizza.  Frozen Pizza. Christmas cards are probably going to be Epiphany Cards, which we'll then push to Easter and then decide nothing's really gone on that much that people need a card from us. 

So yeah.  I'm still the same old mess you all know and love.

Now today I was going to write a nice 5 for Friday about 5 holiday songs you don't have on your holiday playlist, but you should.  It was going to be a very nice little blog that was going to put you all in the right mood to get you to Christmas morning.

And then I went to the grocery store.  My dad is sick so I offered to pick up a few things for my mom, so they won't have to go out in the snowy slushy mess that's happening in our weather right now.

And now we have a different 5 for Friday.  It's FIVE THINGS THAT PISSED ME OFF AT THE GROCERY STORE THIS MORNING!

Ready?

5)  DON'T YOU PEOPLE HAVE JOBS OR SCHOOL?

Seriously. 9:30 on a Friday morning. Even allowing for the senior citizens (isn't Wednesday supposed to be the day we let the oldsters out to shop?  What are they doing blocking my way on a Friday?) and the shopper people shopping for people who don't want to shop, there were a TON of job aged people dragging school aged children.

Yes, when my kids were small I took them and the kids I babysat to the store. Sure I did.  It was an outing.  I taught the kids how to make a shopping list, how to navigate the aisles in a store, and when to use a coupon and when it doesn't pay.  (Not that any of those kids remember those lessons, but whatever.) That said, NOW if I'm in the supermarket on a weekday morning it's because 1) I'm in the middle of a cooking/baking project and realized I need one weird ingredient and I need it NOW or 2) I'm picking up a few things and I have a busy day so I need to MOVE.

And yet, I'm trapped behind a family of FIVE kids and every single one of them is shouting about some sugary snack or whatever and the parents, who clearly would rather be at their jobs, are ignoring the children and arguing with each other about which can of yams is a better value.  (Here's a hint: NO ONE IS GOING TO LIKE THE CANNED YAMS. Stop buying them. The stores will stop trying to sell them and then they can use that shelf space for something better, like cookies.)

4) Could we PLEASE go back to stocking at night?

Oh, my lord.  I know that Covid changed the landscape of retail grocery stores forever.  I realize we'll probably never have our pick of 24-hour supermarkets to shop at ever again.  But...for the love of all that's holy, could we PLEASE at least have the stockers go back to working when the store is closed?

When stores were opened 24 hours a day, I was okay with having to weave around flatbeds of boxed goods at 11 at night.  There weren't a lot of other shoppers to contend with, so it was okay.  But now, now I'm fighting traffic with shoppers AND stockers. It's like the opening five minutes of "Office Space" where the office employees are stuck in traffic.  

Oh, and here's a rule:  If it's something I need...either a giant pile of boxes will be in front of it, or a couple grannies in those motorized carts will be double parked in front of it.  

3)  If I hear that joke one more time...

We've all been there:  We're rolling down the big aisle of the grocery store and some jackwagon pops out from a crossing aisle and you very nearly crash and one of you says, "Oh they should put traffic lights up here." Ha ha.

To quote a wise saying from my youth, "Gag me with a spoon."

Repeating that stupid joke does not clear you of stupid cart driving.  If you're crossing the main aisle, slow the bleep down and look!  Don't just shove your 300-pound cart (with your fourth grader riding on the rack underneath, even though the signs on the cart say, "Don't put a child in the bottom rack.") out into traffic and then act all shocked when someone nearly sideswipes you. Hey, if your fourth grader loses his fingers in an accident like that, you're probably not going to find the joke funny. Or maybe you're a terrible parent (which one could surmise, given you're letting the kid ride under the cart) and you still think the joke is funny.  

My point is, WATCH WHERE YOU ARE GOING.  And if you're a slower shopper, MOVE OVER for those of us who have an organized list and know what we're doing. 

Also, if you're comparison shopping, and that's fine, how about if you DON'T angle park your cart so it takes up the entire aisle.  I'm not in the store to make chitchat.  Asking you to please move so I can get by might just use up every spoon I have and then I won't have the energy to make dinner for my family and they'll wind up ordering pizza which will raise their blood pressure and blood sugars and make them fat.  DO YOU WANT THAT ON YOUR CONSCIENCE?  NO?  Then move your cart OVER if you're slow shopping.

2)  I bet you train your employees, right?  Then why do you assume we all know how to do this?

Self-checking.  I've been against it from the start.  First of all, stores spend time training their employees on how to be cashiers. I remember. I worked for Aldi for a brief time. The training was intense. So I make a point to use those highly trained employees whenever I can.

But somedays the line for a cashier at Woodman's is ten deep.  Sure, they have like fifteen cash registers, but only two lines are open.  The other fifteen checkout stands are self-check.  Sometimes I don't have the time or patience for it, or I've made the mistake of wearing my coat into the store and now I'm melting because the store's thermostat is set to "SUN" and I'm already a warm person (thank you, Menopause).  So I wind up in self-check.

Like I said, I've worked as a grocery cashier, but not everyone has.  Case in point, the two women in front of me at Woodman's today.

Woman 1:  A TON of stuff in her cart and she was picking things out in a particular order.

Woman 2:  Less stuff in her cart, but she couldn't find a UPC code to save her life.

I got behind woman 2.  And I struck up a conversation with the guy who got behind woman 1.  

Woman 1 got her groceries scanned first.  Annoying.  Woman 2 had to flag down the ONE cashier in charge of the SEA OF CHECKOUTS because she got herself a big old bag of rotten bananas for 99 cents, but there was no UPC code on the bag. (I know this because believe you me, she checked every side of the bag and half the bananas in it.) I don't know what she thought she was doing, but apparently WAVING HER CREDIT CARD in the air without saying anything out loud was the move she hoped would attract the cashier's attention.

Did it?

Would I be blogging if it had?

She finally murmured something like, "Excuse me?"

I was melting, I was annoyed, and I was watching my new bestie scan his cart and leave the store and I hadn't' moved an inch.  So, I yelled, "EXCUSE ME!" in my best teacher voice the same time little Miss Timid murmured.  She looked shocked. Not because I was yelling, but because she honestly believed that sound came out of her.

The cashier came over, scanned the bananas and that should have been the end of it, right?

Nope. Now it was time to stick said credit card into the machine to PAY for the groceries. Little Miss Timid, and I'm not even kidding, took a deep breath and slapped her hands against her thighs like a gymnast gearing up to mount he uneven parallel bars.  

Spoiler alert, I give her payment routine a 4.2.  She got the card into the payment machine, but it took her a couple tries to get the right PIN.

1) If you're going to make us use self-check, how about if you make sure ALL THE SELF-CHECK LINES WORK?

Every single store I go to has self-check now. And in every single one of those stores, no less than 30% of the self-check machines (and it's usually closer to 50%)  are OUT OF ORDER. How is this EVEN POSSIBLE???????????  HOW??????????  

Had all the self-check lines at the grocery been operating this morning, there would have been no blog. I wouldn't have gotten stuck behind Little Miss Timid.  My buddy would have been behind me, not behind Woman 2, who while she scanned faster than woman 1, bagged her groceries like she was playing Tetris and if she didn't get every bag perfectly packaged someone would skin the child she had riding on the bottom of the cart. 

Instead, half the checkouts don't work.  I get they can't find people who want to work as cashiers.  It's not a great job.  The hours blow, it's not a great paying gig, you're on your feet the whole time, standing on concrete, and you have to deal with just the worst people on earth:  The check writers who don't bring ID.  The people who HAVE TO PAY with EXACT CHANGE. Or, you know, me.  

What was my point? Oh right.

Anyway, I get that stores are having a tough time getting cashiers. But you can't even get your self-check machines to work for you?  GIVE ME A BREAK!

So there you go.  I meant to write a nice blog, but then this happened.

Oh, and the five songs you should have on your holiday playlist, but probably don't?

5) Selah Light of the Stable

4) Rick Springfield  Christmas with You

3) Mike Westendorf Nativity Song

2) Ana Gasteyer Sugar and Booze

1) Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings Big Bulbs

Christian Rock, a New Member of the Family, and what got dumped on Sarah at a Toby Mac Concert.

Good morning all!

Last night, Hubby took me to Toby Mac's Hits Deep concert.  Now, this was definitely outside the box for me.  First of all...rock concerts have not been my friend of late.  Second of all, we JUST saw Piff the Magic Dragon last weekend and honestly, two big nights out among people...that's a lot

for me.  (Let's just say this is the month when all those "PERFECT" Christmas presents are happening.)

Side note, see this show. It's hilarious!

Also, while I do enjoy Christian contemporary and rock music, I'm not an avid listener and other than the headliner, Toby Mac, I had zero knowledge of any of the other acts playing this very concert.

To fully understand me (who would want that?) we have to go back to the dawning of, well, me.  See, I was raised in what can only be called a super ultra mega religious conservative family. All of my elder relatives were in THE MINISTRY  (not the band, no, service to GOD) and I, too, was educated parochially and then went into the ministry as a parochial school teacher.  As far as my upbringing was concerned (and I'm not making this up) when it came to music, popular music was the work of the devil (unless it was Perry Como or The Kingston Trio.  The Osmonds were a big too edgy and the Partridge Family...well that was just going to send you straight to Hell.)

When Christian Contemporary music started popping up, it was a whole different battle for my elders. See, in my family, the PIPE ORGAN was the only proper instrument in church and, really, if there must be something else, I guess we could get crazy and play trumpets, but only on Easter Sunday.  When it came to this new music, this...well, AMY GRANT...that was considered at the very least useless, and, in some realms, more damaging to good Christian teens than say, satanic backmasking.   (You younger folks, go look that up.)

And this was all before Brittany Spears wrapped a snake around herself.

Wow, did I get off topic.  

Anyway, my point is that I wasn't exactly raised listening to CC music. Which doesn't mean I haven't had the opportunity to get into as an adult. Plenty of adults (most of them in my church choir) listen to K-love and know all the songs and all the artists.  Not me.  I liked listening to the radio as a teen, we all did, and in college I experimented with alternative rock, but by the time I became a full on adult, my musical tastes were pretty much set and, not being a big scholar of music, I'm perfectly satisfied with my CD collection as it is.  I'm more into movies now anyway, so my last several music purchases have been movie soundtracks.  But, thanks to a recent change of churches, my church choir, and musicians like Mike Westendorf, I'm learning.

So we're at this concert last night and I don't know any of the songs or any of the artists, and there were a lot...but still, I was having fun.  The message was positive, the music was high energy, and the crowd was awesome.  

As we know, Sarah has had issues with concerts in the past.  There have been multiple Rick Springfield concerts where she's gotten a rum and coke dumped on her.  There was that Melissa Etheridge concert where she sat next to a guy who either was a Nazi or had no idea that his over head hand gesture was really, really, really funny, given that he was at a Melissa Etheridge concert.  (Crack a book, dude!)  There was the Pat Benatar concert where she sat in front of people who argued for ten minutes about who was really supposed to be in the seats, and then DUDE shouted, "Play Love is  A Battlefield" the entire concert and then when Pat did, he didn't recognize it.  And how many countless other concert mishaps have there been?

Well, something got dumped on Sarah this time too...all courtesy of the older lady behind her.  

Love, and the courage to, how do I put this...PRAISE JESUS! out loud.

See, I grew up in one of those churches where we show our love for the Lord by sitting very quietly

I mean, is there a single person who looks like they're enjoying what they're doing?

and focusing on how sinful we've been.  The lady behind me clearly came from a different denomination.  She was definitely not ashamed about her faith, nor was she shy about adding commentary to the performers' talking points.

She started slowly, a few "Amens" and "Yes Lord" as the opening act performed.  The second act was a little loud, but she managed to get a "Mm, Hm yes!" over to me.

Right before the intermission (this was a Looong concert with a half dozen artists playing) the MC came out and talked about how HOPE is so important and how he'd gone to Ethiopia and met with a young family of children whose parents had died and how a 12 year old boy was the head of household and how HOPE in the Gospel moved some Americans to sponsor the kids.  The story started with how the parents died.  

Lady behind me:  Oh Lord.

MC: These children lived in four mud walls.

Lady behind me:  Oh Lord Jesus.

MC:  There was no floor. They had no beds, and no roof. When it rained, they were sleeping in mud.

Lady behind me:  Mm, Mm.

MC: They had no school supplies.  They had no clothes. They couldn't go to school,  These four children just wandered around with not enough food, no clean water, no way to go to school and they slept in mud.

Lady behind me:  Oh Lord.

MC:  But then, someone filled with the HOPE....

Lady behind me: Mm, say it!

MC:  Filled with the hope of the love...

Lady behind me: Say it, Say it!

MC: With the hope of the love of Jesus...

Lady behind me: He's sayin' it! Ses Lord!

MC: Sponsored these children and now they have a roof and they have a floor and they have four beds and they have school supplies and they have clothes!

Lady behind me: He's sayin' it!  Lord, he's sayin' it!

MC:  And now they know the HOPE and the LOVE of JESUS!

Lady behind me: HE SAID IT!  Yes, LORD! HE SAID IT!

Now, I'm not sure if it was the story about these children in Ethiopia, or the verbal expression of unashamed faith from the woman behind us...but guess what?

It's a GIRL!

Yep, we, the Bradleys, have now sponsored a young girl in Rawanda. Her name is Claundine, and a buck a day and some letters from us to her will build her a house, clothe her, feed her, and give her the hope in the love of Jesus.

That's a mighty powerful buck a day. Yes, Lord.

Can't wait to tell Skippy and Peaches they have a new sister.

So...in summary...my plan going forward it to listen to more CC music on the radio because, and I know there are those who are going to disagree with me, one can only listen to so much 80's jams before you need something else. Plus, I think I can go to concerts again without worrying that my shoes are going to get ruined by rum and coke.

 I also plan to include less sitting quietly and more "YES LORD PRAISE JESUS" in my life.

Also, I have a new kid to care for, so there's that!

Yeah, Yeah, but here's what I really accomplished!

Hello all!

WOW!

It's been almost a month since I've checked in.  I could say nothing funny has happened to me in the month and that would be partially true since I've lost some of my sense of humor lately.  Peaches is moving away. Like away, away.  She wants to live closer to her fiancee, Junior.  I suppose it's the natural. way of things, but for any mother who has watched their baby move away to another state, you know, it's not easy.

That said, I've regained my sense of humor because today we loaded the truck. And by "WE"  I mean Hubby and a band of young lads because for some reason we forgot just how many people we had to UNLOAD that truck back in September.  (Five. We had five strapping young lads.)  So at about 6 Pm we walked into Peaches' apartment, took one look at the boxes and the furniture and realized that Hubby, Peaches and I would not be muscle enough to get the stuff OUT of the building.  (Skippy was working.)

That's when I called my good friend Joy and she brought her four boys, whom I will call J's 1-4 and those boys and Hubby and Peaches got that tuck loaded in well under an hour.  Where was I?

At Starbucks, enjoying an iced tea with Joy.

So now Hubby and Peaches are unloading half the truck into our garage.  Why?  Well, because Peaches doesn't exactly have a "place" or a "job" in the city where she is moving, so she'll be staying with her future mom in law for a bit while she's getting settled. The good news is that at some point later this year Hubby and I get to rent a truck again and drive the rest of the stuff down there.  My mother points out that if Peaches were in college we'd be doing this all the time, so I really can't complain. And I'm not. I'm going to miss that girl big time.  (Insert tears here.)

But I'm not here to weep about the passage of time and "Cat's in the Cradle" and all that.

I accomplished something on Mother's Day weekend that astounds me even now.

And it's gross. 

So if you're easily grossed out, or if you're TODD, then don't keep reading.  

you've been warned.

So Mother's Day was very nice.  Well, the evening was.  Dinner was lovely all my kids, biological and otherwise, were there, except Junior, who we missed.  It was lovely.

Mother's Day morning I directed the Sunday School kids while they sang a song in church. I stress about this every year and every year God sees to it that it comes through okay.  

This year I wasn't so sure that was going to happen. So I had a little conversation with God and it went like this:

Me: I just don't think we're going to have enough kids to sing this year, Lord.

God: Sure you will. You always stress about this, you'll be fine.

Me: But I think we need to have an over/under.

God: Like Abraham? If there are ten you'll sing and I'll spare Sodom?

Me: Yes. Ten.

God: Okay.

Me. Wait, we're in the balcony and it's a big church. So maybe twelve.

God: Twelve. Got it. You have less than 12 and you don't sing.

Me: Wait...there aren't many older kids. And the little ones only know the refrain.15. 15 or less and we bail.

God: Fine. 15 or less.

NEXT DAY:

ME: (sweaty and still stressed after first service.) Hey, God...what the what?

God: What's the problem?

Me: I said 15 or less and we wouldn't sing.

God: I sent you 16. Actually I sent you more like 30.

Me: Right. But of those 30, four of them I SWEAR were under the age of two, three of them showed up AFTER we actually sang the song.

God: Still holding at 23.

Me: Right, but here's the thing, Lord, of the 23, You sent me, 18 of them were under the age of 7 and the ones that weren't yanking their skirts up over their heads the whole time were looking at me like a herd of terrified fawns.

God: So what did you do?

Me: I told the pastor to invite the congregation to sing along so it wouldn't seem so...weak.

God: Hey, you singing groups in churches always talk about 'leading worship" and all that. What are you leading if no one DOWNSTAIRS joins the voices coming to Me from UPSTAIRS? People heard the song, they sang along, I was praised, and they got to sing something in your particular church that had a little zest to it. I like that Mike Westendorf.

Me: Okay. Fine. Lesson learned. But could You maybe have sent just a few more fourth and fifth graders so I didn't flop sweat through my favorite top?

God: No.

Me: Why not, Oh Lord?

God: Because it wouldn't have been as funny.

Me: God, I don't know that I get your sense of humor.

God: And I don't get your pink hair.

Me: So what You're saying is we need to learn to laugh and not stress as much?

God: Sure, let's say that. Amen.

Me: Amen.

So that was Sunday morning.  

And Saturday was really nice as well. My mother and I had our first weekend selling art and books at the Waukesha Farmer's Market and it went very well.  I'm excited to be selling my two NEW books this summer, Missing in Manitowoc and my movie review book with Linda Schmalz, Two Moms, Three Glasses of Wine and a Movie.  So Saturday morning went well.

And of course Saturday afternoon was the Kentucky Derby and this year I had a favorite going in, which I never do. I picked Nyquist, who was the favorite and actually won. I picked him because I'm a raging Redwings fan and any
horse named after a Detroit Redwing is going to be my favorite.

And he won!

But that's not why I'm writing all this. No, the thing I accomplished on Mother's Day weekend, the gross this is this:

I yanked off a skin tag all by myself.

For those of you not familiar, skin tags are those weird little....tags...of skin...that form pretty much anyplace. My dad's side of the family is silly with them. My mother tells stories of cutting my dad's off while they watch TV.

Gross.

My brother goes to the doctor to get his burned off.

Expensive and gross.

I noticed one forming right at the base of my throat. Really lovely.  right there in front of everyone, here's this bulbous tag of skin.  So, Saturday night, I poked at it and rubbed on it and toyed with it long enough so that it fell right off.

Gross, yes, but also awesome for me.

Can't wait for the next one to grow on me!