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Stray observations.
My building's laundry room's been struck: each washing machine now costs an additional dollar per load. I can't say why, and I don't know who to complain to, and I took stock of my usual laundry habits and figured that if I alternate washing the sheets with my delicate items - tights and suchlike - alongside all the usual towels and t-shirts I can keep it at two loads a week.
I counted them. I've got enough bras to last two weeks without having to wear any twice. I've got bras from college that still have enough elasticity and tensile strength to do their job. (As far as I can tell, the trick is to wash them on the delicate setting and then let them air-dry.) So until I get a job that'd have me wearing tights more than twice a week, which would pay for the added cost of the machines, I can maneuver through this.
This morning, I took a walk to a nearby farmers market - even restricting myself to ones I can walk to still leaves me with a wide enough selection I can rely on them for nearly all my groceries, some of my sundries, and a few impulse purchases. Today I got three wool dryer balls because I wanted to feel some control over life. Also, bourbon.
The bourbon was planned and hoped for, though.
Even so, I can continue getting things like milk, eggs, fruit, vegetables, assorted dairy products, flours, dried beans, herbs, mushrooms, meats, fish, flowers, jams and jellies, maple syrup, baked goods, alcohol, and the occasional herbal tincture without interruption. It's not the same selection as Union Square, but it'll do for the duration.
What was odd was seeing the breadline for the bread stand. I recognize that the bread sold at the stand is amazing bread - I've bought it and ate half the loaf, slice after slice, before I could stop what I was doing. I also recognize that the line is due to current health and safety regulations, and on other days, it'd be the same amount of customers without me noticing them as much because they'd be constantly in motion. This was luxury bread, not necessary bread.
There was a line at the grocery store where I was buying canned tomatoes, most of the ones I wanted off the shelf, and while I cheered someone up immensely when I said there was still one package of corn tortillas left, it was still a wait in line. I didn't think much of it.
And even so. A bread line. A line to get bread.
It hit me in a place I wasn't aware I had to be hit.
I counted them. I've got enough bras to last two weeks without having to wear any twice. I've got bras from college that still have enough elasticity and tensile strength to do their job. (As far as I can tell, the trick is to wash them on the delicate setting and then let them air-dry.) So until I get a job that'd have me wearing tights more than twice a week, which would pay for the added cost of the machines, I can maneuver through this.
This morning, I took a walk to a nearby farmers market - even restricting myself to ones I can walk to still leaves me with a wide enough selection I can rely on them for nearly all my groceries, some of my sundries, and a few impulse purchases. Today I got three wool dryer balls because I wanted to feel some control over life. Also, bourbon.
The bourbon was planned and hoped for, though.
Even so, I can continue getting things like milk, eggs, fruit, vegetables, assorted dairy products, flours, dried beans, herbs, mushrooms, meats, fish, flowers, jams and jellies, maple syrup, baked goods, alcohol, and the occasional herbal tincture without interruption. It's not the same selection as Union Square, but it'll do for the duration.
What was odd was seeing the breadline for the bread stand. I recognize that the bread sold at the stand is amazing bread - I've bought it and ate half the loaf, slice after slice, before I could stop what I was doing. I also recognize that the line is due to current health and safety regulations, and on other days, it'd be the same amount of customers without me noticing them as much because they'd be constantly in motion. This was luxury bread, not necessary bread.
There was a line at the grocery store where I was buying canned tomatoes, most of the ones I wanted off the shelf, and while I cheered someone up immensely when I said there was still one package of corn tortillas left, it was still a wait in line. I didn't think much of it.
And even so. A bread line. A line to get bread.
It hit me in a place I wasn't aware I had to be hit.
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Lines are going to become more common alright, less hopefully for rationing reasons as safety ones.
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Who would you complain to if a machine was broken?
Great bread is such a comfort. You are fortunate indeed to be able to buy it in your neighborhood.