Bought a bunch of lemongrass stalks at Super H Mart in Carrollton last weekend. Carrollton is the next suburb over to the west, and Super H Mart is what's happening! They should sell picture postcards in this summer of close-to-home vacationing. It only takes a couple gallons of gas to find an exotic destination with dried anchovies, enormous root vegetables, and ninety-nine cent watermelons.
Some people go to Madame Tussauds' and rip off Hitler's head. Others go to Ripley's Believe It Or Not. Some go to grocery stores. This week I went to two new grocery stores.
After my fingerprinting appointment in McKinney, I stopped at the Market Street store in Allen at Bethany Drive and Highway 75. I'm still pouting that the Montgomery family has developed this area into another P.F. Chang-ville upscale trendy marketing venue with surrounding residential areas.
I loved the Montgomery family's Connemara Nature Preserve with its annual spring sculpture installation northeast of my city. It was a great place to hike, listen to birds, fall down in the mud, fly kites, take photos, smell the wildflowers, and let three wild boys get some nature time. There was something irrationally satisfying to me about climbing over the stile into the meadow. "Stile" is such a crossword puzzle/Peter Rabbit sort of word!
"Stile Self Portrait" 1997.The Market Street store had a nice mix of grocery basics at reasonable prices, special prices on selected meats, and organic/specialty items. It had a really rare feature, polite young persons who insisted on carrying out my groceries. Employees were in the aisles offering to help me locate items. Although it was the hot Independence Day weekend, I was looking for items to make a spicy soup, and was glad to have the assistance. I didn't see a rack of nickel picture postcards, but
...Wish you were here!
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder
1 comment:
At summer Bible Camp when I was a kid, there were two stiles -- one over the barbed wire fence to go to the baseball diamond, and the other over the barbed wire fence to go to the swimming hole in the creek. Those were the only two stiles I've ever known outside the covers of a book.
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