Elizabeth Willis Barrett

I was ready to make stew this morning and got everything out: the stew meat, the potatoes, the onions, the celery…………… .  Nope, not the celery.  Where was the celery?  I looked in the big fridge.  I looked in the little fridge.  Then I looked again–behind the apples, behind the tomatoes, even behind the eggs.  The celery had gone AWOL.  I was sure I had picked up celery at the Superstition Ranch Market.  I remember looking over each bunch and observing that they looked a bit puny.  But I had put one in my basket anyway.

Wait a minute–MY basket.  Hmmmm. That was sounding familiar.  I had been here before and that could be where the absence began.  There was another item that didn’t make it home with me.  Zucchini.   I had needed it for the Tortellini Soup I made the other day.  I know why I didn’t get home with the zucchini.  While at the produce store, I got detracted from that vegetable when I put four cucumbers in what I thought was my basket.    If I could play the haunting music to “Jaws,” right now it would be very appropriate.  I wouldn’t have known it wasn’t my basket if the rightful owner hadn’t said just as I was lowering the cukes, “Hey, doesn’t that basket look a little strange to you?”  I hadn’t even looked.  Just like I hadn’t looked on another occasion that you might want to re-read about.  I will re-post it tomorrow, or the next day or the next.  When I get around to it.  It makes this story a lot more pathetic.

Since the last basket fiasco, I have tried to identify my own shopping cart with a signature bag of grapes or potatoes.  It is harder to personalize your basket at a produce store, however, because everyone is getting produce and most likely the very same produce you are getting yourself.  I must have lost my concentration for a moment because–voilà–I was again messing with someone else’s basket.  I probably dropped the celery into this unsuspecting man’s basket before he caught me with the cucumbers.  I am a very bad risk at the Superstition Ranch Market.

Most likely, “Mr. Persecuted” got home, started putting away his groceries and held a bunch of celery in each hand, with the question and exclamation, “What am I doing with two bunches of celery?  I didn’t want two bunches of celery!”  And then he’ll remember: “Oh yeah, the Nut.”

Not quite what I envisioned when I dreamed of making a name for myself.






  1. Nancy says:

    Not to worry ~ we’ve all been there or will go there soon 🙂 Great seeing you two today!!!!!

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