Thursday morning I left home at 5:45 in the dark, cold, and rain to go to Winco in Visalia. The last trip was in January, and it seemed prudent to stock up. (My Mom had a huge list too.)

I managed to get both our lists at the same time into one very packed and heavy cart. It was disconcerting to see all the bulk bins empty, including most of the ones where you don’t actually have to touch the food with a scoop. I made substitutions, skipped some things, and only bought produce that came in plastic. Mom wanted things I didn’t know how to find, and just touching the bag of frozen okra almost triggered my gag reflex. (Really, Martha, are you that hungry??)

Winco isn’t banning people’s own bags yet but I didn’t know that. (I now have 17 plastic bags to use in sharing oranges with neighbors.) I had to put it into 2 carts once it was bagged, and then a stranger helped me pull one of them to my car in the rain. I should have taken the pick-em-up truck instead of Fernando (that’s my ’96 Honda Accord Coupe – have I ever disclosed that before?) Good thing I had no passengers.

I drove with the window open through Lemon Cove so I could smell the orange blossoms.

Time for a restorative cup of tea (I’m reading a novel based in England in WWII* – can you tell?), a bit of dark chocolate, and a reminder that spring is still happening and it is beautiful so stop whinging. (See? reading an English novel)

P.S. The neighbor’s dogs have stopped barking – there’s a bright spot in this mess.

*Coming Home, Rosamunde Pilcher