My intentions were good, but the road is still paved with asphalt.

Today was one of those days. I convinced my daughter she should accompany me on my rounds, this time to get a new cyan printer cartridge for the inkjet printer, and then to work our way back home doing various and sundry errands. This included stopping at the international food store where we ran into a couple we know who were with their nephew visiting from Germany (he was in Boston on business and it’s only a four-hour drive here from there), she was both Little Princess’ and Buddy Boy’s nursery school teacher and he taught in the German department at the university for many years until his retirement. We bought orzo, spinach tagliatele, gnocchetti, hot lime pickle, elderflower juice, habañero sauce, tea and halvah. You really needed to know that, didn’t you?

Our next stop was the SAQ where Little Princess bought a mickey of dark rum for the birthday boy whose party she is attending this evening, and I found some interesting alcoholic beverages to purchase (including a new product on promotion, a crème de pomme concoction made from Quebec’s famous ice cider). Just a few blocks away is my jeweller, who was sorry (I said I was désolée and he replied, «Non, madame, c’est moi qui est désolé!») at the state of my brand new watchband, and he will be sending it off to the manufacturer first thing on Monday.

We’re getting closer to home all the time in this tale, and finally arrived there after a last stop at the grocery store where we loaded up on boring things like milk and yogurt and bananas. All this time Little Princess and I were discussing ways to cut fuel consumption and lower CO2 emissions and other greenhouse gases, specifically methane.

After being home for a rather brief time, basically just long enough to put groceries away and check my email, Buddy Boy came to me begging a favour. He has a rugby game tomorrow and needed to pick up his team colours (shorts and socks) at a sporting goods store in Sh’brooke. I groaned inwardly, but he had the address and was paying for the items himself, even getting a discount as a member of his team.

So fine, we got back in the car (so much for trying to conserve gasoline and reduce emissions) and drove out to the address he got off the web. There is no sporting goods store at this address, but an emporium specializing in clothing and accoutrements for babies and toddlers. I entered said establishment and inquired of the vendeuse therein the whereabouts of the sporting goods store, and was informed that it had moved and she gave me rather exact coordinates (the first stop light before Jacques-Cartier on your left). Buddy Boy and I found it, no problem, but I was inwardly seething because I had already been out to this part of town earlier in the day.

We acquired the specified items (black shorts, red and black striped socks) with a 20% discount and came home. I started making supper and Buddy Boy informed me, phone on hip, that he had been invited to go with his friends to eat hamburgers for supper. Sigh. He used to be such a good little vegetarian. Now I know why the old ladies used to say, “Enjoy them when they’re young.” Sigh.

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