I’ve been mulling over the idea of storebought.
This is my first Christmas working as a librarian in a public library. I’m learning that part of being the public library here is getting Christmas presents from patrons. We have about 10 boxes and tins of treats in the back, that we’ve slowly been working our way through since Thanksgiving. The first Whitman’s sampler was gone in a few hours. After that, as the boxes and tins started rolling in, I began to realize that I needed to be very careful. If I didn’t pay attention, I’d ingest a few thousand extra calories each day.
As I looked over our selection, I realized that what I wanted to spend my caloric pennies on was homemade snacks. Food with no preservatives, with taste in mind rather than presentation.
I read all the Laura Ingalls Wilder series, which took place in midwest frontier America. During Laura’s life, there were several scenes of experiencing the difference between homemade and storebought. In this context, ‘storebought’ meant hard candy, calico print fabric, and other items simply unattainable from the prairie, but magically available through Sears and Roebuck. I could imagine how nice it would be to give up wearing wool underwear for some nice, soft cotton.
At what point did homemade become the new storebought?
Here is Adam,
obviously enamored with the most awesome baglet ever. This came,
along with various tiny delicious cookies, from my good friend E.
Wooo wooo wooo (says the whale).
Helen got it for me in Oslo.
I recently discovered that one of my friends shares the same favorite movie as myself. I never really knew exactly what tung oil was,
until I spotted this bottle of it.