“Mom?”  It was a question fraught with  incredulous amazement.

As I turned my head, I could see my daughter out of the corner of my eye, looking at me in the same way her voice sounded, with incredulous amazement.

“I thought that was you.  What are you doing?”

But wait.  Let me start at the beginning.  It was a sunny day, a nice day to go for a walk to the grocery store.  That’s how it all started, with just a typical, sunny day.

makes you wanna DO something

The grocery store was only three or four blocks away, as are most of the stores and businesses in this little no-stoplight town, so I decided to just walk to pick up the two or three items I needed.

Apparently, several other people had thought the same thing as well because I met some on the way to market (I love that phrase) and chatted up a storm.  I have to say I am chatty and love to visit when given the opportunity; that’s what we do in rural areas (or count corn and soy bean rows).

corn rows

So by the time I got to the grocery store, I was in a good mood and feeling even more chatty.

And I wasn’t disappointed either!  After I got my cart and began to mosey down the aisles, I bumped into one here and then another there, chat-chat-chat.  The more I talked, the more items I put in my cart.    As the cashier rang up my purchases, we, of course, said a word or two in passing, and then it was out the door to get in my car.

When it was all said and done, I had at least three well-filled sacks of groceries:  gallon of milk, cans of something or other, heavy stuff.  “Where in the heck is my car?!” I walked around to the side of the building.  “Now, what the heck?” Then it dawned on me:  I walked.  Four blocks to be exact.  Maybe ten.  At this point, the weight of those sacks of groceries was distorting my spacial recollection.

There was nothing to do but hoof it.  So off I went, and actually did pretty good until the last block.  By that time I was all bent over just trying to maintain some sort of grip on those sacks, contemplating just leaving them there to go get the car.  But I could see my house!  I could make it!

That’s when I heard the voice filled with incredulous amazement.  My daughter had driven up the road and saw this little figure carrying all these sacks.  “I thought you were some little girl!” Not said in a nice way to make me feel young, cute, or vibrant.  More incredulously amazed that a grown woman with children old enough to drive a car would be contorting on the public way, grappling  sacks of food stuffs.

I didn’t care how she said it.  I just hightailed it into that vehicle and went home.