in Canada. Or somewhere where the people who will be taking care of me have some intelligence and common sense. No, I won't be needing a room for quite a few years, but I figure I might had better start my search now. After two encounters this weekend I was driven to this conclusion.
Encounter 1: Our modem went on the fritz Saturday morning and after speaking to the phone company and finding out that we need a new one and they would send it to us for free (yay!) we decided to check out Barnes & Noble. I was searching for a homesteading book that would reference rendering lard in a crock pot. Several of the blogs I follow have instructions for this method, but without a modem the internet was not an option. I wandered around for several minutes trying to find a section that would hold what I was looking for, nothing. So I went to the customer service desk and asked the sweet young girl there. This is how the conversation went:
"Excuse me, do you have a section on homesteading books?"
"Yes, we do. It's this way." (she bounces out from behind the desk and heads towards the front of the store.
(Stops all of a sudden and looks at me quizzically) "That's like home interior, right?"
(Mentally slapping of my hand to my forehead) "No, it is like gardening, farming, raising livestock, being self sufficient."
"Oh." (turns and leads me to another section)
She dropped me off at the nature and field guide section!!!
I go and find Farmer Joe and we search in vain on our own. I did manage to find the Foxfire Series and we purchased the first two. Along with two cookbooks. Can't ever have too many cookbooks, I never know when the urge to try something new will strike. So Farmer Joe and I left without what we needed and slightly dumbfounded by the employee. I kept imagining Suzanne Sugerbaker invading Little House On The Prairie and trying to talk Caroline into chintz drapes.
Sunday night I was still feeling the effects of a migraine I had woken up with and did not feel like cooking, so I talked Farmer Joe into ordering takeout. I called our local Italian place and placed our order, that part of the conversation went fine. Here is the payment part of the conversation:
"Thank you, your order should be there in 30 minutes."
"Wait, I would like to go ahead and pay you."
"Oh, hold on just a minute. I can't work the register."
(same girl) (I could hear someone giving her instructions in the back ground) "Um, what is the card number?"
I gave her that information.
"Um, what is the expiration date?'
"Oh, that's my birthday. What year?"
I just sat there for a second. "March of 2014"
"Oh, um, ok"
I wondered at this point when we would actually get delivery and would it be baked spaghetti or who knows what.
I am happy to say that it was what we ordered and somewhat in the time frame it was promised. The driver missed our driveway twice, while we stood on the porch watching him and trying to tell him "Turn left now" on the phone.
So far this week, I have had no more of these encounters. And I for one am thankful. But just to be on the safe side I am still looking towards the future and a comfortable nursing home with intelligent life. Wish me luck!!