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Monday, April 4, 2011


On Thursday I went to a Walgreen's just to buy bread:  They had none. Friday I went without it, thinking that I could get some the next day. The next day came all right and so did my thirteen year old granddaughter. We went out to eat and stopped at Walgreen's only to find out that there had been a run on bread. They had none! It was getting late and we both decided that we'd get it on Sunday.
You can live without  bread only so long and yes, I did have crackers. But I kept spying my jar of Jif peanut butter and wishing that there were bread in the house and there wasn't.

Sunday morning came and my granddaughter and I went outside and did splatter painting a al "Jackson Pollack:" This time she was teaching me and it was a blast.  After we finished that, which took about an hour as we both did two artworks, she said, "Now where are we going?" "Let's go to Magic Island." I agreed with her as the day was beautiful and warm. "Magic Island" is a piece of land that over the years grew larger and larger as it is attached to the riverbank. To get there, you have to park your car, walk across a four lane boulevard and then go down a concrete path [or steps] to the flat piece of land that is by the Kanawha River.

In the past, I've always packed a picnic lunch and taken cold Pepsi or Coke. But I had no bread! And there was one Pepsi left and that meant that we would have to go to a convience store to get some hotdogs and something to drink. Off we went to the favorite place that we both liked and guess what? Once inside, we looked over to the counter where the hotdogs and barbecues are fixed and there was a sign: "Food is not served on Sunday!" Had that sign ever been there before on a Sunday? Of course not. And my granddaughter had two loaves of bread in her hand as well as a cube of Pepsi: We didn't get the bread or the Pepsi cube but just some chips and got back in the car. We were really close to Magic Island but had no food as such.

Brilliant idea I thought: "Let's go to 7-11." They always have hotdogs there. After driving out of our way and getting inside the store, we saw a huge crowd of "after church" people. As we inched our way over to where the hotdogs were being cooked, we noticed that there was only one hotdog! And a woman had pulled out the bun drawer underneath to discover that there were no buns at all! Again, I had my granddaughter get two loaves of bread and she started to get a cube of Pepsi when I heard some man in front of the counter say, "You mean you're not accepting credit cards?!" The registers would not take cards. People were livid as was I. "Only taking money" said a girl behind the counter.

Setting my pocketbook down on the counter, I scrambled to find my billfold and in it was seventy-five cents in cash. And so, my granddaughter had to put back the bread and the cube of Pepsi--again.
We left there and by now I was beginning to think that there was some kind of "bread conspiracy" going on: How many places could you either not find bread, change your mind or not be able to use your credit card?
Back into the car again, I told my granddaughter that we would just drive through Arby's: It was back the other way but close to Magic Island.
Thank heavens we got food! Each of us got a roast beef sandwich, curly fries and large Pepsis.

I found a place to park near the boulevard, we got out and took our food with us, walked across the four lane boulevard and descended down the walkway to the island. Finding a bench way across near the river was a blessing! I was near maniac-stage by this time. And it was so good just to sit down, enjoy the view and eat! We devoured our food and stayed a long time either taking pictures or going down to the river. After an hour and a half, we decided to leave.
But the path we had walked down was farther away as we had moved down the island to a bench we both liked; my car was parked almost straight across from a huge flight of concrete steps.

Rock Balboa came into mind as I attempted to climb those fifteen or so steps: I felt like him only I wasn't running up them. I was barely making it up those steps and my granddaughter was way ahead of me. When I got to the top, it was hard for me to catch my breath: High steps and I don't agree with each other.
Both of us made it across the four lane and to my car and when we got inside, I had to rest--those steps had almost done me in and I didn't have on my normal high heels either!

At this point I remembered the bread quest and so we went back to the first place we had gone and got two loaves of bread and that Pepsi cube, put them in the car and headed off for more places to go and see.
By this time, I was running out of gas--figuratively and literally. We were almost home when I told her that I thought we should try the 7-11 again: Maybe their cash registers were taking credit cards by now.
Mad dash back there and lo and behold, the registers were fixed. She pumped my gas and we headed off to three more places. The day was still glorious, we had on the ac and the sun roof was open. My Black Eyed Peas cd "The End" was playing so loud that my back window was shaking but I didn't care! It felt great. And she loved it too.

Once home, she dragged in the bread for me as well as the Pepsi cube and I collapsed into a heap.
I'm not really sure what transpired after that but she did have to leave around six p.m. as she had school the next day.
The two loaves of bread were visible and guess what? I was too tired to even fix a sandwich!
Still I think that from Friday to Sunday that there was a "bread conspiracy" going on but I was so glad it was over despite the fact that we had to go to a gazillion places to get it. Some days are like that you know? But three days in a row was more than strange.
But all ended well and I had spent two glorious days with my granddaughter and that made it all worthwhile--bread or no bread.

Sherry Hill

1 comment:

  1. The late Lois McCabe of Charleston, West Virginia, named "Magic Island" in a newspaper contest. If you remember her [such a lovely person, wife and mother] you also know her sons.