Shopping

After a memorial for fallen firefighters and police personnel in Roseville, Michigan today I headed to Cosco.

Up and down the aisles I went trying to determine the merit of renewing my membership there.

Up until I arrived at the counter with "live" mussels deep in crushed ice from Canada, I was quite sure that renewing my membership was not in my best interest as a single person.

I was so intrigued with the mussels, and the challenge of steaming them.

After all, I recalled eating them on Long Island with an old priest friend of mine, Louis Reuss of Bohemia, New York.

Having been told how to prepare them, I was confident with the purchase, and, the updated card.
An executive card seemed worth my while as well.

The experience in the store was incredible. People readily engaged in conversation.

In my black suit and Roman collar - the ID for clergy - talking with many people at most counters was inspiring and exciting.

Much counsel.  A lot of advice from drinking water only, without juices, and, staying in the garden area of grocery stories about 90 percent of one's shopping spree is what a Filipino nurse told me.

The mussels needed to breathe so I had to keep the plastic bag open as I toured the store to decide.
Then, I'd have to walk about a mile to the parish office near Jack's Bar-b-que where I left my Prius.
Worried about the fish, I moved quickly to get the mussels home and in the regrigerator for supper.
If the mussels died, and, I steamed them, I would get terribly sick, I was told.

So . . .

What an adventure it was to steam them later this evening.

And, to eat them.

Steam them in wine, some garlic, butter, oregano, I recall the selling saying to me.

Delicious.

And, different.

The challenge.

I love it!

Shopping.

What a trek, indeed.