Reasons I love Sunday mornings...

   "Miss, you forgot your toilet paper!" shouted the cashier, running after me, my mini-cart threatening to roll down the cobbles into the parking without my body behind it.

   "Whoops! Thanks!" I said cheerfully as she piled it on top of my two filled-to-bursting cloth grocery bags. An apple was attempting to escape through the hole Seuss had chewed in the middle of it's side.

   The sun was out and it was a really beautiful morning. Not like the morning I wrote about a day ago. No, today it was 60 degrees outside. Never mind that I looked like some sort of crazed college student with a cold; my red nose and the didn't-sleep-but-sneezed-all-last-night, hair is unraveling from it's long braid, baggy sweatshirt and jeans ensemble.

   As J and I had realized yesterday, we'd both forgotten to purchase coffee filters. I remedied that this morning... along with our shortage of apples, sweet potatoes, zucchini, green tea, vegan dark chocolate, almond milk, and all the other number of organic tasty-treats continued that our cupboards were lacking.

   I LOVE my grocery store. Sometimes we go to the little one down the street from our house, but my favorite store is UNMATCHED in every way. I love the open layout, the flowers right when you walk in, the produce being up front, the organics easy to find, the friendly hippie staff, the DAVE MATTHEWS BAND piping through the aisles... sigh... it's pretty difficult to beat that place.

   This morning, I rode with J to the coffee shop, mentally cursing myself for not picking up the aforementioned filters on Saturday, but hell, I'm only human. On occasion (ok, mostly) I consider myself a spirit with a human form... still...

   Then, as soon as I got back to the house, I grabbed my shopping list and away we went! My little yellow VW took me to my favorite store in a delightful manner, radio pumping, windows half-way down (it was such a perfect temperature outside), sunglasses on to keep my lil' eyes from frying and most of the other drivers were at church, or eating brunch, or sleeping in, or whatever the heck people usually do on a glorious Sunday morning. I had open roads and a relaxed, lovely trip.

   Normally on Sundays I head to a church and I sing. Note that I did not say I attend service, pray, or recite things I memorized as a small child when I was forced to go. God is cool, Jesus is my homeboy, whatever floats your particular boat. However, my spiritual needs are met in a fashion that does not lend itself to organized religion.

   "Why then, oh Love, WHY do you go to a house of God?" The answer is because a man whom I hold very dear to my heart is the leader of the church's choir. He asked me to come and sing, so I do when I'm able. I used to sing for him in another choir, but he retired (I still perform with that choir, we have a super new conductor) and I miss him, so I go and sing church-y music and the pastor glares at me like the little heathen I am.  The choir congregation is full of sweet ladies and kindly men, so I don't  mind so much.

   Needless to say, I did not sing this morning. I sneezed my way to the market and enjoyed myself in the nearly empty store.

   HALLELUJAH and GLORY BE, I'm in the GROCERY, and there's ONLY MEEEEEE!

   It's the little things in life that matter. Such as not having to squeeze by someone with a half empty cart who has decided not to leave room in the aisle to get by, oh no, but to park perpendicularly to the lane left for passerby traffic in the grocery, while they read each and every label on the tea bins, because HEAVEN FORBID they bring home Lady Grey instead of Earl Grey or caffeinated instead of decaffeinated... but today there was no waiting, no rushing, no crowding and no discussions. :-) It. Was. Delightful.

   I'm sure I forgot some item that our house needs. I usually do. On my last two shopping excursions it was sugar cubes. Couldn't remember the damn things. Yes, yes, I know you may think I'm a batty, little old woman, instead of a 28 year old, but on the incidence of tea-time (I happen to quite enjoy tea-time) I like to have sugar cubes because one makes the tea perfectly sweet, and it's not as easy to measure out one cubic cm of sugar in a spoon (I don't give a damn if that measurement is correct or not, it just goes to prove my point).

   I think perhaps I forget an item or two subconsciously on purpose, because in the back of my mind, I want an excuse to go back to the market sooner, rather than later and mosey around. Happily surveying and smelling the fruit and veggies, reading ingredients, and listening to Dave Matthew's Band, while some guy in dreadlocks or some gal in hemp gently follows me, shadowing me with a smile in case I have any "shopping queries or needs."

Mmmmmm...