Surviving Costco

Gerry and I are home from Costco or, said differently, we survived Costco. There is no such beast in Moose Jaw; Regina, about 40 minutes east, is the closest one. We originally planned to go yesterday, but the weather was less than optimum for winter highway travel so we opted to stay home—and spent a few delicious quiet hours lost in our books instead.

This morning we were on the fence about going. There’s a specific reason I want to go before next Wednesday, but we talked about postponing the trip until early next week when it is supposed to be warmer (it was -22C / -8F this morning.) But, realizing we were just procrastinating, and the cold didn’t matter since we were driving and not walking to Regina (!), we decided to buck up, go and get it out of the way.

The morning sky was spectacular, which made the trip worthwhile on its own. They don’t call Saskatchewan the land of living skies for no reason. I was also struck with wonder at the rainbow coloured sun dogs when we pulled into the Costco parking lot. I would have taken a photo, but the view was obscured by the store.

I had a list and, apart from a couple of things that I forgot to put on it, we stuck to it. Remember the good old days when we said that it was impossible to go to Costco without spending $100? Yeah. I wish. Let’s just say the rising cost of groceries and everything else was a topic of conversation on the drive home.

The longer we live in Moose Jaw, a small city with a population of approximately 33,000), the less appetite I have for crowds. I’ve never had much patience for busy places, but it’s growing increasing thinner as the years go by. I lost my rational mind while we were there and told Gerry that I might have to stop going to Costco entirely (we make the trip 3 or 4 times a year.) I was joking. Kind of.

I make more and more boundary setting resolutions as I get older. In fact, earlier this morning I verbalized one I’ve been chewing on for a long time. I’m no longer going to go anywhere where I have to bring food. Sorry. No more potlucks. (Truthfully, I opted out years ago. This just formalizes my decision.) The stress of deciding what to take (then making it and stressing about whether people will like it) is one less thing I choose to be concerned with. (The word I chose for 2024 was simplify. This fits into that category.)

Anyway, we’re home now and our purchases are put away. The house is silent. Molly is snoozing on Gerry’s lap and he’s lost in a book. I’m going to do the same when I’m finished here.

Speaking of words for the year, do you choose one? Have you started thinking about one for 2025 yet?