I try to shop locally. It’s a new mission I’m on … local community sustainability. But every once in a while, I have a list that warrants a trip to the mainland. I try to limit these shopping endeavors to a couple of times a year. Today was one of those days. I couldn’t put it off any longer. My kids need school supplies, and now that it is officially October, I guess I have to face the reality that I’m woefully behind.
I’ve been prepping my kids for this shopping trip for about three days. Trying to get them really fired up about being dragged around the store on my mission to secure the mere necessities and get out of there before removing my Minimalist Goggles and getting sucked in to Halloween Decorating Hell.
School supplies. Check. Rubber boots. Check. Warm slippers for the classroom. Check. I even found a couple of necessities to replenish my wardrobe … which still requires some minimizing, but also needs some replacements. I was even able to find a humidifier (my son gets the Croup every winter), and a new baby monitor (my daughter tries to navigate the stairs in her sleep), and a clearance coffee pot (because while my efforts to minimize my caffeine addiction were great in theory … they were less than executable in reality). I think it goes without saying that my first pot of coffee was brewing before the rest of the car was unloaded. There are no secrets here.
And, the best part of the day was that I managed to stay within my budget …
Until I walked down the bath linens isle. I try to tell myself that soft new towels are over-rated. But then I find myself stepping out of the shower and drying off with a musty-smelling human-sized piece of sand paper. Aaah … refreshing, I try to tell myself. But today, I could not resist the temptation. Pure, unadulterated luxury in a bath-sized, terry-cloth piece of heaven. They’re kind of a big deal.
Hot bubble bath followed by a soft, snuggly cocoon of comfort while I sip a steaming cup of coffee? Don’t mind if I do. Creature Comforts. My favorites.
While this sounds like a successful day, it also means that when I am done blissing out in my new towels, I am going to have to tackle the shoes, coats, and clothes again … minimizing the items that we’ve outgrown, or will outgrow by next summer. And then I’m going to shred the old towels into musty-smelling, sand-paper feeling, toilet-scrubbing cloths. And relish every moment of it.