Headin' into Town
I've always loved a good old Western. I would watch Bonanza with my father and brothers and get all caught up in the excitement. Hands down, the more exciting episodes seemed to center around a trip into town to pick up supplies. I remember one episode where Little Joe and Hoss ran into all sorts of trouble, ended up in a knock-down fight, drank some whiskey, and picked up the pretty girls. (How Hoss hooked-up at all is another story, but you had to love the big oaf).
I thought of this today as I trudged the 1/4 into town to pick up supplies for the homestead. We needed rawhides for the dogs, something for dinner, and drink boxes for the kids. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew that it was my responsibility. Early on in our marriage my wife explained that grocery store makes her sick. What she wants is what she gets.
I didn't run across any bad guys. I didn't have a shot of whiskey for the ride. I certainly didn't get near any pretty girls.
Instead, I got a sneer from an old man who was pushing his cart down aisle four. Thirty minutes later, I doubt that he has reached the end of the aisle.
I suffered through a price check and an impatient cashier who couldn't get the dogs rawhides to scan properly.
When I exited the store there was a cart pushed up tight to my car where someone had left it to do its damage. (Word out here - put your cart away - it doesn't take long and helps the next guy).
All in all, an uneventful trip, until I returned home and realized that I forgot about seven items. Thankfully, I don't have to shoe the horses before I head out again.
Yet wouldn't it have been cool to schedule the trip into town a month in advance? I can imagine Little Joe and Hoss sitting around saying, "What the hell, Pa, is getting a little cranky, let's make a day out of it."
Come to think of it, I'm starting to resemble Hoss around the neck a little bit. That'll help the next time I'm ambushed with a wagon full of groceries.
I thought of this today as I trudged the 1/4 into town to pick up supplies for the homestead. We needed rawhides for the dogs, something for dinner, and drink boxes for the kids. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew that it was my responsibility. Early on in our marriage my wife explained that grocery store makes her sick. What she wants is what she gets.
I didn't run across any bad guys. I didn't have a shot of whiskey for the ride. I certainly didn't get near any pretty girls.
Instead, I got a sneer from an old man who was pushing his cart down aisle four. Thirty minutes later, I doubt that he has reached the end of the aisle.
I suffered through a price check and an impatient cashier who couldn't get the dogs rawhides to scan properly.
When I exited the store there was a cart pushed up tight to my car where someone had left it to do its damage. (Word out here - put your cart away - it doesn't take long and helps the next guy).
All in all, an uneventful trip, until I returned home and realized that I forgot about seven items. Thankfully, I don't have to shoe the horses before I head out again.
Yet wouldn't it have been cool to schedule the trip into town a month in advance? I can imagine Little Joe and Hoss sitting around saying, "What the hell, Pa, is getting a little cranky, let's make a day out of it."
Come to think of it, I'm starting to resemble Hoss around the neck a little bit. That'll help the next time I'm ambushed with a wagon full of groceries.
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