Getting better at getting out
We’re getting better at getting out; of the city, I mean. This morning, after completing our load out, the GPS received the following quest: “get us out of here and pass near the big box stores”. OK, not exactly that phrase, but the sentiment is what counts. I actually said “go to Costco”, and we did.
I envy a city that has two addresses for this oh-so-lusted-after commerce. We opted for the branch that sits under the shadow of the Ikea sign. No, we didn’t go inside, but maybe next time. The car was almost full, and after our stop in the temple of over-consumption, we were full. I now have enough granola bars to get me deep into winter, although the tiny jelly beans are sadly lacking.
Getting back to getting out. I tend to avoid toll roads. And bridges. However.
Paying $1 to avoid the long way around makes so much sense. Halifax sits on the side of a bottle. By crossing a single bridge, we avoided all those neighbourhoods, and the numbered highway put us where we wanted to go. Shopping done, we went north, through the kingdom of our local weather rodent, made a pit stop in Truro and then drove the rest of the way in daylight on bare roads. A marked difference from Tuesday.
Back on the Island I tried, and failed in purchasing wiper fluid. I think the clerk was more surprised than me to see his racks, inside and out (and in back, he checked) empty. I pity the rest of the drivers, going forward. We finally found a jug in the Morell Co-Op, near the steaks and salad.
