Turds Don't Clean Themselves, You Know

I frequent my local Bridle Trails shopping area because it's good to buy local and I know mostly friendly people who work there.  I like all the people at the Red Apple and love the pharmacist, Dennis, at Bartells.  The postmistress, Anna, there is very funny and Shelby, the pharmacy cashier, is quite nice, too.  Then there is Fat Sally.  She frightens me because she is big and loud.  If her voice were written, it would be all caps.  Me:  "Hi, Sally, how are you?"  F.S.:  "ME?  WELL I'M PRETTY GOOD, GOSHDARN IT ALL, THANKS FOR ASKING!!!!!", as I hold my ear closest to her and run.  Her voice echoes throughout the store and she talks to everyone at earsplitting volume. "SAY, THAT'S A REAL GOOD DEAL ON THAT HEMORRHOID CREAM, HUH?  WAY TO STOCK UP AND BE SMART!!"

Yesterday, I took the horse boys for a walk and decided to walk all the way to the store.  I made it to the first door of the Red Apple and was mobbed by mostly the checkers, who brought apples and carrots.  Kids, old people and curious dogs kept us with tons of questions and petting.  I started to worry a bit, because the boys hadn't pooped for some time.  I walked down the sidewalk outside Bartells, the automatic door opened and Fat Sally saw me and bellowed out the door, "HEY THERE!  WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!!!  WAIT, LET ME CALL EVERYBODY!!!!"  As I kept, walking, copious amounts of milkduds squirted from Lucky.  I panicked and dragged them quicker as Trusty dumped a pile outside of Ace Hardware.  OMG!!  Quick, before anybody sees, because of course, I'll just nonchalantly stroll off and no one would expect it came from the two miniature horses walking by.  Just as Trusty finishes, I hear F.S. scream, "HEY GIRL!!!  THEM HORSES DUMPED OUT HERE!  WHERE YOU GOING????!!!"  I managed to get them in a trot and we hightailed it home.

Yes, I could have gone back to Red Apple and grabbed produce bags, but I didn't think of that until half way home.  Instead, I threw them in their paddock, grabbed a broom, dustpan and plastic bags and drove back.  The poop outside of Bartells was gone. The huge pile outside of Ace remained, apparently unnoticed by all.  I quickly swept it up and walked into Bartells with my tools and the bag.  F.S. was at the cash register and I meekly said, "I'm so sorry, I didn't have anything to clean that up, and I see someone else did."  "YEAH, THE GUY FROM OUT BACK CAME UP AND SAID, "HOW CAN SHE WALK AROUND AND LET THEM DO THAT AND EXPECT EVERYBODY TO NOT MIND?"  BOY, HE WAS MAD, I'M TELLING YOU AND HERE YOU ARE NOW, DON'T BE THINKING WE'LL TAKE THAT MESS, TOO."  Okay, I was just a bit taken aback and confused until I realized she thought I was bringing in Trusty's poop for her to take.  "No, this was outside of Ace, I just cleaned it up and was going to get the rest of it."    "WELL, I'LL TELL HIM YOU CAME BACK THEN AND I HOPE HE WON'T BE MAD, YOU KNOW SAYING SORRY DIDN'T GET THEM TURDS CLEANED UP." 

I don't know if I'll ever go there again. 

Momisms

I like hanging out with my Mom.  We mostly go to doctor and dentist appointments with the occasional hairdresser thrown in.  She prefers the stylist at her assisted living facility because she's cheap, but she really does get what she pays for.  Anyway, she's happy and could be healthier but I'm thinking that's a lost cause because she loves to eat.  She does make unusual observations sometimes, so I always have those to enjoy on our outings.

It struck me funny today when she was telling me a story about a woman in her house that insisted that her husband was home and she could call him.  He was in Italy, but she was firmly convinced he was right around the corner.  Now, that kind of dementia isn't funny, but I reminded Mom on how adamant she is when she tells me that Sears is out of business.  She has told me this at least three times, even after we have physically been there within the last two months.  I said to her today, "Mom, remember that fleece vest from Lands End?"  "Oh, yes, I will wear it this winter and for the rest of my life.."  "Well, Lands End is at Sears."  Big pause....."But it's not on Aurora Avenue."  I don't think this signifies that my mom has dementia, just fairly well set in her opinions and will not be swayed.

One of her lifelong sayings is often repeated between my sister and me.  When she finds a high priced item, like a piece of furniture or a coat, she always says, "I will own this for the rest of my life."  Really?  That's the justification?  I think it's what hoarders say.  Fortunately, she doesn't hoard.

She likes to walk to Starbucks and enjoy a coffee.  It took me the longest time to figure out that she orders a latte, because she claims that she like the "lotty" the best.  Evidently, the baristas are trained in literal German translations.

We were discussing her upcoming annual physical and recent blood glucose test.  I told her that one of Denny's doctors had said that one of the most common side effects of one of her meds was weight gain and we should discuss it with her doctor.  While at breakfast, she ordered pumpkin pancakes with whipped cream.  I gently asked if this was a good choice for her diet.  She indignantly told me that I had just told her it was the pills that made her fat, so she was going to stop taking them today, so it wouldn't matter what she ate.  Alrighty then.

One of our favorite places to shop (although now she's a tad large), is The Best Kept Secret, a sample store in Kirkland.  We've been there at least a dozen times, yet the name is illusive.  When I ask her where she'd like to go (besides the closed Sears store) she has a variety of replies:  The Most Best Place, The Secret Store, The Super Secret, or the Best Store. I believe the concept of keeping secrets, especially one of the best, is a hugely foreign concept.  I know this based on all the "secrets" that she has been told by her fellow residents.

And that is fodder for another blog post.