Lists and Galoshes

Yesterday, it rained.  All over the place.  The entire world (as far as I could see) was wet.

Nathan had taken the car to work in the morning, so we had stayed home and played and piddled around.  I hung up laundry.  Olivia played nest.  Elsie crawled, bit apples, and slept.  My friend Corinne came over to hang out (and do dishes - hooray!).  It was getting late, and dinner time was approaching.  So I looked in the pantry.  And then the refrigerator.

Nothing was ready to eat.  Hmph.

Not only that, but we were out of onions.

(This may not seem a huge dilemma to you non onion-loving friends out there - wherever you may be - but it is a big problem for those of us who love them.  Especially if the menu is, by necessity, beans and rice.)

So we had to go to the store.  In the rain.

Corinne had driven over, and the store was only four blocks away.  She suggested I take her car and go.  But I had two fussy children who needed to get out of the house.  So I strapped Elsie in her baby carrier and stuck Olivia in her waterproof stroller.  I donned my knee-high galoshes and coerced Corinne to leave the comfort of our dry house and strike out with us into the wide wet world.

The walk there was mildy wet - not too much precipitation from the sky.  Olivia fell asleep and Elsie chewed on her carrier.

My plan was to get onions.  And maybe some green beans for Nathan's lunch.

Herein lies the problem - never say "maybe" when writing the grocery list.  And... write a list.  I hadn't.  In my rush to play in the puddles, I had left without a list.  And there I was, in the beautiful produce section of Whole Foods, surrounded by seasonal and local fruits and veggies - some on sale.  It was a terrible sight to behold.  Terrible and wonderful...

So I got green beans.  And some fresh figs on sale.  And some goat cheese on sale.  And some grass-fed stew beef on sale.  And lord knows what else on sale.  I even remembered the onions.

In the end, I had two paper grocery bags filled with tasty items, and had spent over half of my $100 budget for the week.  Man, this is going to be tough!

When we left the store, it was pouring.  The stroller had no storage underneath, but a clear cover that kept Olivia dry.  We propped her up (still sleeping) and put two of the grocery bags behind her in the stroller (which was reclined).  She leaned back on them and rested - and went back to sleep.  Corinne carried the third bag (which was hers).  I had Elsie in the carrier, an umbrella in one hand, the stroller handle in my other hand, and galoshes.  It was brilliant!  But, as we walked home, it got pourier, and even my galoshes weren't enough to keep my spirits buoyant.  We arrived home, soaking wet - Corinne in flip-flops!  But the girls and the groceries were dry, and once we were in dry clothes, we went about warming the house up.

Soon, our little apartment was filled with the warm light of lamps and the scent of brown basmati rice cooking.  The sound of rain on tree leaves came in through the slightly-opened windows and the gentle rattle and hiss of the pressure cooker soon filled the house.  We gradually tidied up, and rested and played while dinner cooked.  It was really quite lovely.  We fed Olivia her favorite - cold cubes of tofu and brown rice with "sauce" - and put her in a warm bath.  Elsie had nursed and was resting on the bed, barricaded by pillows.  Nathan came home around 8 PM, just in time for dinner to be ready, and we three grown-ups sat and chatted and ate collards, beans, and rice, with some cheese and locally-made Frontera salsa.  Mmm...

Tomorrow, I'll write a list.  But, for now, the onions made all the difference.