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This site is a member of WebRing. To browse visit here. Thursday, March 25, 2004 Back home after a long week of driving around in the mountains of West Virginia and western Virginia. No major surprises for me this trip, except for one store which was closed when it was allegedly supposed to be open. I'll have to go back there tomorrow, but wen I got home, I found the information for another store waiting in my email, this one about ten miles from the one that was closed, so I would have had to go back out there anyway.For once, no one demanded to know why I was taking pictures. No one had hysterics over the idea of signing my consent form. No one complained when I said I couldn't answer questions about regulatory compliance. Only two store owners rolled their eyes and said that of course, I just had to show up the day before their grocery vendor restocked the shelves. I commiserated with them and told them about the supermarket I visited during the worst of last year's winter weather—this store had missed nine deliveries in a row due to the weather, and the shelves were nearly bare. They both said that made them feel better about the spotty nature of some of their stock.I've been doing this long enough now that I've been to some of the stores two or three times. It's not uncommon for an owner to remember me from the previous visit, but one man is either pulling my leg or just isn't working on all thrusters. I had been to the store he owns with his two brothers on three earlier occasions. Both the others remembered me. But the third brother, the one who is usually at the cash register, gave me a blank look when I came through the door, addressed him by name and said cheerily, "Hi, it's me again." Nope, he didn't remember me, he said. I musta talked to his brother when I was there the last time. The funny thing is that this is exactly what he said the last time, and the time before. I have to wonder whether he really has trouble remembering names and faces, or is simply allergic to anyone who shows up with a badge and a clipboard.Nick found some pieces of coal along the stream at the back of this little store, and one of the brothers opened up their coal-burning space heater and showed him what coal looked like when it was burning. Until that point, coal for Nick was something he'd read about in his fifth grade science book, so we had a learning experience. Nick asked me whether he could keep one lump of the coal, and the store owner, laughing, told us about a Louisiana cousin who came to visit and wanted to take some coal home with him. "He varnished it," the man said in disbelief. "Varnished it and set it up on a shelf like some kind of decoration." Nick and I agreed that this was bizarre behavior, though I could see Nick mentally reassessing his obvious intention to display his own lump of coal as a shelf decoration.All in all, it was an easy trip, compared to many others. posted by Liz @ 9:57 PM | The template is set to display 10 posts. To see all the posts for this month, click on the month name in the Archive section RSS Feed PERSONAL Send email toliz at life-as-a-spectator-sport.com Home I'm a mother, grandmother, a computer professional, Democrat, Christian. I welcome politely worded comments and email, my spam filter throws the rest away, so don't bother to flame me WHY 'LIFE AS A SPECTATOR SPORT' "If you're lucky not to live in the gutters of a slum, but still can't afford to take vacations in the Alps, you're part of that enormous middle class who lives life through the medium of the television, further separated from "real" life by air conditioner, by automobile, by dishwasher, microwave and ice-in-the-door refrigerator, by automatic washer and dryer, and all the other appliances and conveniences that make it possible for America to live life at second hand. I'm not sure why Americans decided that televised drama was better than the real thing, that cardboard microwave food containers were an adequate substitute for real dishes, and their contents for real food, or that cooking, dishwashing and face-to-face conversation wasn't worth the effort and time it required. Someone fed this nation a plastic crate of out-of-season tomatoes and told us it was life and we took them at their word, and we're so much the poorer for it that it's hard to know where to start to list the shortcomings." I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I have to admit it's much less amusing than I thought it would be to see the artifical construct falling apart. THE NON-ELECTRIC HOME Cleaning, 1 Cleaning, 2 Cleaning, 3 KNITTING BLOGS Extravayarnza Knitting Heretic Mind of Winter Pie Knits Persistent Illusion See Eunny Knit The Keyboard Biologist Taleweaver's Ramblings TECHnitting Wendy Knits FINISHED PROJECTS -------FINISHED IN 2006------- Peruvian Cap Tutti-Frutti Socks Shelley's Socks Carol's Socks -------FINISHED IN 2007------- Chain Link Socks Baby Surprise Jacket Valerie & Friend Baby Bonnet Rainbow Baby Socks Girls Pixie Hood Mitred Square Heart Red & White Socks Coffee Cup Pot Holder Nubbins Dishcloth Garterlac Dishcloth Suede Booties Kate's Socks Norwegian Sweet Baby Cap Half Thumbless Mittens Red Mittens for Akkol -------FINISHED IN 2008------- SELF-RELIANCE AND THE FUTURE -- Blogs and websites -- Causubon's Book Club Orlov Food Storage Made Easy From the Wilderness In the Wake Listening to Katrina Survival Topics The Modern Homestead The Oil Drum Notes from a Hillside Farm -- Mailing Lists -- 12vdc Power Living on the Land Rainwater Refrigeration Alternatives Old Ways of Living POLITICAL BLOGS and SITES The political sites have moved BOOKS I'M READING How to Grow More Vegetables, etc. Small Scale Grain Raising ARCHIVES February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 August 2008 July 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 January 2003 December 2002 November 2002 October 2002 September 2002 August 2002 July 2002 June 2002 May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002 Feedjit Live Blog Stats
Back home after a long week of driving around in the mountains of West Virginia and western Virginia. No major surprises for me this trip, except for one store which was closed when it was allegedly supposed to be open. I'll have to go back there tomorrow, but wen I got home, I found the information for another store waiting in my email, this one about ten miles from the one that was closed, so I would have had to go back out there anyway.For once, no one demanded to know why I was taking pictures. No one had hysterics over the idea of signing my consent form. No one complained when I said I couldn't answer questions about regulatory compliance. Only two store owners rolled their eyes and said that of course, I just had to show up the day before their grocery vendor restocked the shelves. I commiserated with them and told them about the supermarket I visited during the worst of last year's winter weather—this store had missed nine deliveries in a row due to the weather, and the shelves were nearly bare. They both said that made them feel better about the spotty nature of some of their stock.I've been doing this long enough now that I've been to some of the stores two or three times. It's not uncommon for an owner to remember me from the previous visit, but one man is either pulling my leg or just isn't working on all thrusters. I had been to the store he owns with his two brothers on three earlier occasions. Both the others remembered me. But the third brother, the one who is usually at the cash register, gave me a blank look when I came through the door, addressed him by name and said cheerily, "Hi, it's me again." Nope, he didn't remember me, he said. I musta talked to his brother when I was there the last time. The funny thing is that this is exactly what he said the last time, and the time before. I have to wonder whether he really has trouble remembering names and faces, or is simply allergic to anyone who shows up with a badge and a clipboard.Nick found some pieces of coal along the stream at the back of this little store, and one of the brothers opened up their coal-burning space heater and showed him what coal looked like when it was burning. Until that point, coal for Nick was something he'd read about in his fifth grade science book, so we had a learning experience. Nick asked me whether he could keep one lump of the coal, and the store owner, laughing, told us about a Louisiana cousin who came to visit and wanted to take some coal home with him. "He varnished it," the man said in disbelief. "Varnished it and set it up on a shelf like some kind of decoration." Nick and I agreed that this was bizarre behavior, though I could see Nick mentally reassessing his obvious intention to display his own lump of coal as a shelf decoration.All in all, it was an easy trip, compared to many others.
The template is set to display 10 posts. To see all the posts for this month, click on the month name in the Archive section
RSS Feed
PERSONAL
WHY 'LIFE AS A SPECTATOR SPORT'
"If you're lucky not to live in the gutters of a slum, but still can't afford to take vacations in the Alps, you're part of that enormous middle class who lives life through the medium of the television, further separated from "real" life by air conditioner, by automobile, by dishwasher, microwave and ice-in-the-door refrigerator, by automatic washer and dryer, and all the other appliances and conveniences that make it possible for America to live life at second hand. I'm not sure why Americans decided that televised drama was better than the real thing, that cardboard microwave food containers were an adequate substitute for real dishes, and their contents for real food, or that cooking, dishwashing and face-to-face conversation wasn't worth the effort and time it required. Someone fed this nation a plastic crate of out-of-season tomatoes and told us it was life and we took them at their word, and we're so much the poorer for it that it's hard to know where to start to list the shortcomings." I wrote this a couple of years ago, but I have to admit it's much less amusing than I thought it would be to see the artifical construct falling apart.
THE NON-ELECTRIC HOME
Cleaning, 1 Cleaning, 2 Cleaning, 3
KNITTING BLOGS
Extravayarnza Knitting Heretic Mind of Winter Pie Knits Persistent Illusion See Eunny Knit The Keyboard Biologist Taleweaver's Ramblings TECHnitting Wendy Knits
FINISHED PROJECTS
SELF-RELIANCE AND THE FUTURE
POLITICAL BLOGS and SITES
BOOKS I'M READING
How to Grow More Vegetables, etc. Small Scale Grain Raising
ARCHIVES
February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 August 2008 July 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 March 2007 February 2007 January 2007 December 2006 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 May 2006 April 2006 March 2006 February 2006 January 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 August 2005 July 2005 June 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 January 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 July 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 March 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 January 2003 December 2002 November 2002 October 2002 September 2002 August 2002 July 2002 June 2002 May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002
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