I ordered a new GPS and the pick-up date coincidentally fell on Green Monday which, also coincidentally, fell on the last day for customers to pick up layaway items. That meant for quite a long wait at the pick-up counter.
Promising myself I’d avoid Wal-Mart until after the holidays, I logged onto the computer later that day and was immediately tempted by a popup for an interesting looking stand mixer.
How do they do that?
It's like whoever does the popups are reading my mind, because a mixer is something I’ve debated for as long as I’ve been making tamales, because it’s beyond difficult to make masa correctly without a mixer, unless you have strong hands and tremendous upper body strength, which I don’t.
My little hand mixer doesn’t do the job, neither does the food processor, so I’ve lived with ho hum masa, thinking I really need a stand mixer, but don’t have the counter space and couldn’t justify the cost for a kitchen appliance to be used once/twice a year.
The one I saw on the screen looked compact enough to be able to make room for in my little kitchen and, at $40 off, the price was right, so it’s ordered for Wednesday pick-up.
Looks like I’ll be joining in with the holiday shopping crowd one more time.
Maybe twice because today I’m off to Victoria Gardens to pick up a garment ordered online.
Leaving the nail salon last week, I drove by Victoria Gardens, saw how it was decorated for the holidays, wanted to stop and check things out, but was in too much pain to be walking around.
Pain because the stress fractured food had been doing exceptionally well to the point where I’d almost forgotten I was having a problem. THEN the woman who did the pedicure, who usually does good work, gave me a food massage from hell. She seemed distracted, like she had something on her mind, something she was worried angry upset about and took it out on my feet, and more than once. At one point I even yelped when she was cleaning under the toenail because she was digging too deep. When I told her why I'd cried out ... "you're digging too deep", she looked like she was just coming back to reality, had been working on automatic and didn't realized what she'd been doing.
Long and short of it is, I left the salon limping. That stress fracture felt re-stressed, re-fractured, and I now feel pain even with the slightest pressure, and a throb when there's no pressure whatsoever -- which has better rectify itself before January 7th, when I’m scheduled to take over someone’s bib and race in their place at the Citrus Run.
The woman that did my feet has been working at the salon for years, is an older woman not yet pushed out but is now surrounded by young, cute, high heel, tiny waists, fake boobs, stylish types. She probably has a loyal following which keeps her in business by requests, which I’ve always done because -- being elderly myself and luckily retired, I try to support the elderly who've not been so lucky and still must work, but I’m gonna have to opt out and request one of the other girls from now on.
Under the circumstances, doubt there will be much walking at Victoria Gardens today. I’ll probably find someplace near the Christmas Tree to park, pick up my package, sit and watch the little ones all dressed up, heading towards a visit to the little house where Santa resides.
geez, commented as my older grandson (I was ordering his Wonder Con ticket.) Sorry. ;)
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