In an effort to achieve 100% efficiency, we have taken to shopping at Sam’s Club for our weekly grocery needs. I don’t mind eating the same Yoplait Parfait Greek Yogurt every day for lunch for the last two months, nor do I mind having one frozen vegetable of the week or a five-dollar rotisserie chicken for dinner. We also don’t mind their beer prices or buying tissue once every two years. I am, however, somewhat startled by the largeness of it all. It reminds me of the land of Brobdingnag from Gulliver’s Travels where everything is, well, brobdingnagian. Huge. Overwhelming. At Sam’s, it’s not just that the pork loins are 20 lbs or the mangoes come in packs of ten. The grocery carts, the cars in the parking lot, the aisles, the tubs of hummus, the people themselves are gigantic. Although I’m a bit nervous that largeness is a contagion and that soon I, too, will be bringing home 30 lbs of vienna sausages and a 100 pack of corn dogs in my overweight truck, it very much suits our needs at this juncture.
Still, shopping is not what you would call a pleasure at Sam’s Club and it was nice to wake up this morning to a nineteenth-century style walk in the Maclay Gardens. We’ve been to the gardens five or six times now, and I always feel a bit cleansed afterward—a bit like I just read a few novels and spent hours reflecting on the different shades of camellias.
Before illustrating our morning stroll, here’s a flashback to last weekend when we went to check out all the sink holes in the area:
And here’s Clara getting measured. For Christmas, Aaron’s brother Joe and his wife Brooke made us a portable measuring yard stick—an idea taken from Pinterest (for the record, I made one thing off Pinterest one time and Aaron walked and said, “Hmm, that’s looks very Pinteresting.” And not necessarily in a tone that signified admiration. I’m really terrible at cutting, sadly.) Anyway, Clara liked getting measured:
How tall are you, Clara?
That’s right! You’re nine feet tall.
And, now for the Lohmeyer photo shoot:
Prancing around the pansies.
Saying “hi” to Dad after reflecting at the reflection pool.
Climbing trees with Dad.
Racing with Dad down to the lake.
Edible cuteness. Love that baby.
This is a pinecone, Baby Brudda.
And, keys . . .
And, I love you . . .
And, I squeeze you . . .
And, I pretty much own you.
Someone bring me some tea.
It was pretty magical. Sometimes there’s nothing better than taking a walk with your kids.