Holy moley: movement.
Oh thank God this is going to be over soon. The costs at Shaw’s and Hannaford are ludicrous for many of the same items we buy.
Though on a good note, we hit the farmer’s markets more this summer than ever and discovered the Tendercrop Farm in Dover where Tuttle’s used to be.
I know Market Basket in its soulless form has lost at least US$500 of my business – not that I’ve spent all of that in other stores, mind. I’ve successfully resisted doing a normal shop because I just can’t bring myself to pay 20, 25, or 30% more for individual items, and I always look at the price of something before I put it in the cart, and my cursed/blessed brain usually remembers precisely what I paid the last time I bought a thing.
What with the abundance of tomatoes and fresh corn at Willard Farm, and the fact that I get my eggs from Ann the Egg Lady and her Plymouth Rock hens, it hasn’t been too bad for me. Except for fresh produce and meats, I naturally maintain a pretty good stock level in the house – to give a few examples, six cans of tuna (because you never know when the urge for a tuna noodle casserole might hit), eight or ten pounds of flour, and, on the Costco/BJ’s side of things, three months of paper towels and a year’s worth of toothpaste.
However, some things are starting to get problematic. I’m down to the last quarter of my last 2.5 gallon fridge dispenser of Poland Spring and, as of this morning, I’m out of salted butter, the two pounds that were in the freezer now depleted. Now I’m off to mortar & pestle some salt into powder after I do a quick search for how much salt is in a stick of butter so I can adjust the last two sticks of unsalted.
Heh…this morning on the highway, a white Cadillac was directly in front of me. In large white handwritten letters across the whole of the rear window was this:
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