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?


Comments

9 responses to “Surviving Costco”

  1. I haven’t chosen a word for 2025 but I might steal your 2024 word 🙂 Previous years have been optimism, compassion and clarity. Every year I have a ring made with the word on it so I can remind myself daily. I’m with you on the potluck idea.

    1. I love the idea of a ring with your word on it, Marjorie! What a great way of keeping your intention before you.

  2. I have such a love/hate relationship with Costco. I really dislike going, and yet there are certain things that I don’t like buying anywhere else. Like you, I find it more and more difficult to be in crowds.

    As for a word for the year, I’ve found that I still find words to contemplate, but they don’t always match up to a calendar year. They just sort of come and go as needed. “Simple” has been on my heart for months now. And then Advent came along, and my word has become “nurture.”

    1. Nurture. Perfect, especially at this time of year.

  3. My husband loves Costco. I have not been inside one for many years. Too overwhelming.

    1. Overwhelming, yes indeed. Expensive too if one isn’t careful. Cheers to your husband who’s willing to brave the masses!

      1. Yes. Lucky to have him.

  4. Costco has never been a destination for us. I know people who love going and have gone as a guest on rare occasion. Hopefully after having braved the cold weather, you found what you wanted and can now enjoy the peacefulness of being back at home.

    1. Yes, we zipped in and zipped out and shopped the list. 🙂

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