III. Watched By Empty Silhouettes

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Today, we are roughly halfway through the public comments period for the National Forest Service's reckless and ill-conceived massive land sale, which I see as a star in the constellation that is our current administration's criminal activities. You can still write to the National Forest Service and tell them to find a thoughtful way to fund rural schools. Or you can hear what I do in the Blogosphere: ...crickets...crickets...

Tough room.

After I stuffed the vegetables into my car's trunk, I was out of my house already so I drove to Casa de Fabulous Ex-Husband(tm), where no one answered my knock at the door. I stuffed his Hanukkah presents between the inner and outer doors and drove off in the general direction of my place. Since vegetable shopping was such a rousing success, I pressed my luck and followed the farm roads to Home Depot for a sopping wet cart and indoor gardening supplies but I didn't find everything I needed. I drove 100 yards to Target, where environmentalists should've lined up to slap me, and found another dripping cart. That's three for three!

I shop to solve problems, and solve problems I did. I needed a casserole for the vegetables and fish I steam every morning, and I found a passable bit of Corningware. I needed wine glasses because I'd smashed the last one months ago and have been drinking out of jelly jars. Because I had some. I needed small shelves on which to sit my little kitchen garden pots because I haven't learned to levitate. I needed a free-standing cabinet for the bathroom because I'm sick of looking at that pile of boxes in the living room which I can't put away because the closet's full so there's no away to put things. Target had one. I've looked online all over the place and cabinets have been too big or expensive or beyond fugly. This one was simple, clean and less than $90. The cabinet would be sturdy once I built it, and I was sure of this because when I dropped it on my right hand I yelped and bled all over the place.

What? Nobody noticed. It's Target. People walk through Target with these marvelous blank looks on their faces. It's like a casting call for George Romero movies, minus the prop sausage. I picked up cat treats because why not?

In line at register 12, I was gleeful. My many problem-solving purchases formed a long line of optimistic ideas for my tiny home and carefully redesigned life. My cashier was a tall young man - right out of high school, I would've guessed. When he finished with the previous customer, I immediately began babbling.

Tata: Okay okay okay I get very nervous when I'm in the store because because I seldom spend money on myself, though you can see I spend piles on my cat. He's very interesting, my cat, but in any case, I don't do things like buy polka dotted soup bowls that later I'll run from room to room with and try different colors next to because they excite me but see, there's this one problem.
Target Guy: What's that?
Tata: I can't lift this thing here but I really really want it. I want it very much. I don't know how I'm getting it into the car because I - like - injured myself getting it off the shelf but it makes me really happy. I want it.

He brightened up. In fact, he went from distracted to interested.

Target Guy: We'll get someone to put it in the car for you.
Tata: You're my new best friend!
Target Guy: Go pull your car around and I'll put it in your car.
Tata: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yes. Only dogs and Flipper heard that.

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