Saturday
After coffee in bed (are you hearing the Squeeze song Black Coffee In Bed?) we went out on a date. To Costco.
Actually, that isn't completely true - first we went to the garden center as K has become a little obsessed with making hot sauce and wants to grow his own peppers. He ran in to buy seeds whilst I called E. There was a flower show at the garden center and I wanted to point out to her that we could save ourselves a trip to Holland! I also had to tell her about the sunroof in our new car. That's the punchline on that story, there is no sunroof in our new car. I got into it last night and told K that I was pleased that they fixed the leak in our sunroof and he rolled his eyes upward to the ceiling of the Jeep and said: yeah, they fixed that.
So.
Costco. Why? This.
My absolutely adorable (no, I've never laid eyes on him) blogless pal, Scot, sent me a jug of this stuff and we are itching to use it ASAP.
Meat.
What else did see?
A six hundred dollar pool. K pointed to it and laughed and a guy walking past us entreated us to buy two!
Why the huge expiration note, Costco? It's like they are some kind of biohazard. (Meanwhile, my boys tell me that Sun Chips withdrew their biodegradable bag from the market because it was too noisy. True?)
I am very fond of the shelf-bra camisole, but I call them undershirts. I had to move heaven and earth (okay, many large boxes) to find a couple of small ones.
Sadly, Costco did not have any of these -
Sofia Coppola for Louis Vuitton handbag. Damn.
It's not really a problem. I don't have a winning lottery ticket.
Actually, that isn't completely true - first we went to the garden center as K has become a little obsessed with making hot sauce and wants to grow his own peppers. He ran in to buy seeds whilst I called E. There was a flower show at the garden center and I wanted to point out to her that we could save ourselves a trip to Holland! I also had to tell her about the sunroof in our new car. That's the punchline on that story, there is no sunroof in our new car. I got into it last night and told K that I was pleased that they fixed the leak in our sunroof and he rolled his eyes upward to the ceiling of the Jeep and said: yeah, they fixed that.
So.
Costco. Why? This.
My absolutely adorable (no, I've never laid eyes on him) blogless pal, Scot, sent me a jug of this stuff and we are itching to use it ASAP.
Meat.
What else did see?
A six hundred dollar pool. K pointed to it and laughed and a guy walking past us entreated us to buy two!
Why the huge expiration note, Costco? It's like they are some kind of biohazard. (Meanwhile, my boys tell me that Sun Chips withdrew their biodegradable bag from the market because it was too noisy. True?)
I am very fond of the shelf-bra camisole, but I call them undershirts. I had to move heaven and earth (okay, many large boxes) to find a couple of small ones.
Sadly, Costco did not have any of these -
Sofia Coppola for Louis Vuitton handbag. Damn.
It's not really a problem. I don't have a winning lottery ticket.
Comments
When I emptied her Florida house I found stuff in her pantry that was bought in 2004...to match the gigantic bottle of Aleve that she bought in 2001.
Didn't you buy the Costco sized bag of Cape Cod Chips?
Bless his little heart.
(I said "so-called" with regards to the composting factor because some studies were done that showed the bags will not actually break down in home composters -- only commercial ones and it was an iffy proposition at that. I did some tests myself and have to agree that "compostable plastics" do not in fact do that.)
I love, LOVE that song!!! -- Black Coffee In Bed