My cold seems like a minor one. Tim is on an antibiotic for whatever version of the 'creeping crud' that he got well over two weeks ago. He seems to be doing better, although he missed most of hunting season. William has minimal symptoms of covid, and we are hoping that we've taken a miss on that. He hadn't been here for four days when he tested positive. It will be a close one.
Did you hear about the thirteen people who were stuck at an airport after their flight was canceled?
And curses to that huge heartless behemoth of a company who made what is arguably the sweetest commercial ever.
I carried Grandma Violet's recipe through the grocery store yesterday, collecting the things for her fruitcake. Tim had been pushing the cart, and had headed over to the next aisle to pick up his Raisin Bran. I grabbed a bag of walnuts off the shelf and turned in an absent minded way, looking at my list. I set the walnuts in the cart and proceeded to push off before realizing that (number one): it was NOT my cart and (number two) it had someone's purse in it. I burst out laughing at my stupid self and a masked woman nearby looked back at me.
"I nearly stole your cart!" I said.
Her answer: "if you're paying for it, go right ahead."
"Sure," I said. "No problem. I'll have your purse. I'm golden!"
She got a befuddled look on her face, and I recognized it right away, although most generally, I am behind the face with that look.
Anyways, she said, "Do you bake a lot?"
I admitted that I did.
She held out two cans of baking power, one Clabber Girl brand, the other Rumford. "So what is the difference between regular baking powder and double acting? Which should I get?"
I told her that she could use them interchangeably, that it made no difference at all. I offered up that I buy Clabber Girl although I had no real reason why. She said, "I was leaning that way myself. I remember the picture from the can when I was a little girl."
I stood there holding my grandmother's recipe with a $30 list of ingredients. She stood there with a shopping list, waxing nostalgic about a picture on a can of baking powder. Two old ladies trying to create the Christmas yet to be while mentally roaming through the memories of Christmas past. It was a sweet moment.
"Merry Christmas!" I said to her, and she returned the greeting. I headed down to the end of the aisle where Tim and my cart were. He had run into someone we used to work with years ago. He and 'Goof' were finishing up their chat as I headed up.
"Who were you talking to?" Tim asked curiously.
"Not a clue," I answered.
I didn't know her name, but she was familiar to me.