Good Night, Kuwait
It’s been a great day in Kuwait.
I needed to go into Fehaheel this morning. Why Fehaheel? I know Fehaheel, and Fehaheel is so much more manageable, to me, than driving downtown to find what I need, and I always have a list. Feheheel is more concentrated, and, if you can find what you need, the prices are often better.
All my secret parking spots are already taken, and it is not even ten o’clock. People! What is going on here?
After circling several times, I found a spot and headed to a shop where there is my kind of guy. He lit up when he saw my camera, and not only did he have the card reader I needed – for less than I would pay in the US – he also had a card with DOUBLE the amount of space on it. Well, I don’t even use all the space on the cards I use, but I appreciated his enthusiasm, and that he keeps up with all the latest advances in photo technology.
So I asked him where he changes his money, and he gave me directions, AND he told me not to take less than 27.700 – 27.750 per dollar, that it holds fairly steady.
As you might have figured out by now, I am a western woman, so the first price I get is often not the same price my Kuwait or Indian friends might get. Armored with the quote my photo-nerd friend gave me, I fought the good fight, when the money-changer would look at me and say 27.500, I knew better! I would just laugh and tell him I am going next door. Finally, when I said that, one guy said OK, OK, 27.900, and I didn’t blink an eye, just changed my money, WOOO HOOOO. I know, I know, it is a primitive response, the hunter-gatherer still present in my lizard-ego, but I love not getting taken.
I found all kinds of wonderful things to take back today, including a Kuwait flag that I can fly on Liberation Day, and when Kuwait friends come to visit. 🙂 I had one when I lived here before, but it was windy, and it blew away!
And here is a final photo for today – today’s sun going down into an Ethel tree. (When I was a kid, there was a gas called Ethel; I think it was special, but I never hear anyone talk about ethel anymore. I can’t imagine Ethel-the-gas and Ethel-the-tree are related.)
Shoreline Foods in Pensacola
“Oh, it’s on Main Street!” our friend told us, “Or it used to be Main Street, but now part of it is Bayfront, or some such, but we all know it is Main Street.”
My resourceful daughter-in-law is always full of the best hints. She told us about a place she thought I would love, called Shoreline Foods, a grocery store, but the old fashioned kind, and Greek.
I’ve been trying to find it ever since, but as it turns out, I was looking in the wrong direction. I finally asked my friend who knows EVERYTHING; Shoreline Foods IS on Main, at Main and “E” St. very near to Joe Patti’s, just as she said.
From the outside, you would never know how special it is, it just looks like another strip mall kind of store, but lots of parking, always a good thing 🙂
They do carry groceries, and an entire aisle with spices you can’t find most other places, or not all in one place:
And they have a deli! With wonderful sandwiches!
Tantalizing desserts!
Kanafi is a Middle Eastern pastry, so hard it is to find, and here it is in Pensacola!
And for me, the very best part is this:
Here I am going to rant for just a little minute. Shopping for olive oil in the USA is the total pits. Even the “best” olive oils, when you read their labels, say that the oil comes from “Spain, Argentina and Tunisia” or some such. Blends. It gives you no guarantee that one month the oil is the same as the next month, or the quality of the oils they are using.
I challenge you! Go to your grocery store and look for an olive oil that tells you it is from one country! Even the specialty shops; few of them have single point of origin olive oils! But at Shoreline Foods, they import an olive oil from Crete (Greece) which is green and fruity and tasty! You can buy it by the litre, or half litre, or the gallon. 🙂 Even better, you can bring your own container and fill it in the shop.
When I lived in Tunisia, I used to do that. Go to the olive oil man (first make sure he has had a delivery; like an oil truck pulls up and fills his barrel) and then grab your container and go stand in line with all the maids until he will fill your container. At Shoreline Foods, there was no line, but lovely lovely olive oil from Crete! I am in heaven!
Shopping Styles: Predatory, Social or Desperation?
As AdventureMan once said, I am not entirely sure I agree with what I am about to say. Feel free to jump in.
Today I was mopping the floors, washing the floors and vacuuming the carpets. This is not – way not – something I like to do, but something I do because long ago somewhere in my tiny little brain, a seed was planted that a dirty floor was a shameful thing. I remember once thinking “people could eat off my floor; there must be a whole meal here!” when I left it unwashed for a few days. In my last three incarnations, in Kuwait and in Qatar, I was blessed with wonderful women who came in and took care of my floors for me, also the dusting, and the laundry, and the windows, and all the things I now do. It takes a surprising chunk of time out of my day. 😦
Oh! Yes. The shopping.
I just wanted you to know that I am not cleaning my house willingly or joyfully, but dutifully. I have discovered, however, that mindless physical activity frees the mind, and you never know where a free mind will go.
I have a friend coming to visit, and this friend and I have had so much fun together, through the years, exchanging books, going out on double dates with our husbands to wonderful places in France and Germany, and . . . shopping.
Finding a person who shops the way you do is a real blessing. I say I am not much of a shopper, but we all have to shop sometimes. Mostly, I shop alone, I am a predator. I am looking for specific game, and I want the juiciest prey at the best price. Most of my friends are like me – we don’t hunt in packs, because when you shop in packs a group mentality surfaces, and you get home with things you never would have bought.
I do shop with other solitary predators from time to time; this is how you know them. You don’t shop together. You shop the same stores, sometimes just the same mall, meeting up to compare items and to go on to the next stop. Most of my predatory shoppers friends know their own style, know their own preferences, and few ask me what I think, nor do I ask them. We do exclaim gleefully over our purchases.
In the military, in Germay, there would be shopping tours to take you to places. Sometimes I took them, most times I didn’t. It depended on whether or not you had to stay together. I saw people buy some truly appalling things because it had a particular name or a particularly low price. The fact that it was obviously inferior did not even seem to strike their consciousness, once the herd shopping mentality kicked in. If the tour were going to a village, and people were on their own and then met up, I would do that. I went to Paris on such a trip; leaving
Germany at midnight, leaving the tour at six in the morning for croissants and coffee at La Duree at its original location on Rue Royale arranging to meet up with them later.
The Musee D’Orsay had just opened, and I was dying to see the exhibit. I spent the morning there, leaving as the hoardes started arriving, had a little lunch of Vietnamese salad rolls on the Left Bank, and strolled over the bridge to the shopping areas around Rue Royale. I found three great outfits at Galleries Lafayette, grabbed a salad from their gorgeous food court, and met up with my group at six to depart. I was home by midnight. 🙂 I would have liked a friend, but I didn’t know anyone, once again I was new, and Paris is so easy that just 12 hours there was a piece of cake.
Social shoppers find us solitary predators very strange. They live in a different world than we do. They consult. Their shopping goals are not so much the goods as the experience. They enjoy the company, and they like having someone to help them make their purchasing decisions. They often meet up for shopping and lunch, and some even shop to kill time. (What luxury! In my whole life, I have never had time to kill; I always have projects, and lists of things that need doing!)
I have been one other kind of shopper, though, and that is a desperation shopper. It was when I was a young mother. Shopping was for survival. I never knew when the baby would start to cry, need to be nursed, or need a change. When I had a babysitter, I was always aware of how little time I had and how much I had to get done. Once a month, I would go to the commissary, about twenty miles away, to buy a month’s worth of diapers, meat (we ate more meat then), canned goods and paper goods.
I see the same desperation in the elderly here in Florida; shopping takes energy and you never know when your energy will desert you. As you can see, I am still thinking about my experience at the Navy Commissary, and I now I can empathize. I might be grumpy and aggressive, too, when I reach a stage where I remember having energy, and now I don’t know where it has gone. I may even scowl at cheerful, energetic people because I wish I still were . . .
We’re all wired so differently. There may be some shopping styles to which I am oblivious. Can you think of any?
The Gauntlet
Today dawned clear and beautiful after a day of rain yesterday. It’s a good thing, today I ‘run the gauntlet,’ i.e. I make my run to the military facilities.
It’s across town. Across town in Pensacola is a piece of cake – it’s not like trying to get across Doha, or across Kuwait City; you’re not stuck forever on the ring roads with the arrogant and the rude and the inconsiderate-at-best or even worse – the oblivious.
No, it’s a mere fifteen minutes of sedate driving. I go to the hospital pharmacy, and IF they have the medication I have prescribed, they will fill it – for free. I fill my tank; gas is cheaper and there is no tax. I pop by the Navy Exchange to pick up my expensive hope-in-a-bottle, which is cheaper there. No tax. And now . . . sigh . . . it is time to go to the commissary.
I don’t go that often. While I can find most things there, it can be hit or miss. Prices are better, and there are no taxes, but it isn’t Publix. When you go to check out, everyone waits in one long snakey line, and one at a time, as a cashier becomes available, they check you out. It isn’t that bad. As a process, it goes fairly quickly.
Although the prices are pretty good and there is no tax, you are obligated to tip the bag people who bag and carry out your groceries, and there is a surcharge added onto your bill to cover commissary operation costs. I still think overall we save money.
No, the reason I dread the commissary is the other customers. These are military people and former military people, these are MY people! And they are rude! The aisles are crowded with scowling, aggressive people. The older they are, the worse they are! You think of older people being kindly and polite, but something is wrong with this picture at the commissary, where so many are pushy and rude and look at you like ‘get out of my way!’ I try to stay out of their way, but there are so many of them!
Actually, I try to stem the tide of ill-will by being particularly polite and cheerful. I’m not sure it does much good. Sometimes cheerfulness only seems to make cross and crabby people crosser and crabbier.
On the way to the car, I was chatting with the bagger, and he told me this year was fairly mellow, not like last year.
“What happened last year?” I had to ask.
“Oh, last year they put turkeys on sale,” he responded as he loaded the bags into the back of the car. “Even though you were only allowed to buy two, some people were cheating and buying more, and a couple fist-fights broke out.”
Fist fights? In the commissary? Over turkeys? And who has room in their freezers for more than one turkey?
I resolve not to make another trip to the commissary until I absolutely have to.
A Change in the Weather
Today my Mom and I went shopping, tough work in a soggy, sultry heat. She was game, though, and shopped ’till she dropped, or at least until time to pick up AdventureMan to head for lunch at the Marina Oyster Barn. We’ve taken Mom there before, and today, that was just where she wanted to eat. Oyster stew. Hush puppies. Grilled tuna sandwiches. A slice of key lime pie to go – oh yummm.
As we entered the Marina Oyster Barn it was 77 degrees F. An hour later, as we left, it was 55 degrees F and it was starting to rain. This was not unexpected, but the sheer drama of the one hour, 22 degree drop made our jaws drop.
We dropped Mom off at home and hurried off to finish some errands before the big storm hit, but we were too late – just as we left the store with the 2 pounds of Jordanian dates for Mom, the squall hit full force, and we were soaked in the ten feet it took us to get to the car.
I’m happy though. I love the cooler temperatures, I love a chance to wear some of my more wintery clothing, and I love love love not having to use the air conditioning. 🙂
Intlxpatr Updates and ReVisits
Oops. I totally forgot. I wanted to show you my Halloween pumpkins.
What? ? ? Really? ? ? Halloween was almost a month ago? ? ? Time just flies these days.
I carved my pumpkins only a day or two before Halloween because with the heat and humidity here – like in Qatar and Kuwait – pumpkins can go moldy and soft if you carve them too soon.
I was OK, except for the ears. The ears – even just in a couple days – got all shriveled, but I kind of liked the effect. These were supposed to be cat pumpkins:
Happy Baby is learning to feed himself. He does great with Cheerios, with rice, with little things he can pick up and put in his mouth. Not so great yet with the spoon, but he is learning to love BBQ:
He thinks the flash on my camera is hilarious. Other than that, he likes me OK, but AdventureMan is his favorite right now.
The Qatteri Cat has a new bed, and oh, he just loves it. It has a tiny heating pad inside and is just warm enough to entice him. He sleeps so happily in his new bed, and he puts his baby in the bed to keep him warm, too, LOL:
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving in Panama City Beach, but my sunset photos are in the other camera and I don’t have the thing to download those photos. You have something to anticipate. 🙂
Great breakfast this morning at Andy’s Flour Power on Panama City Beach, one of our favorite places to go for breakfast:
AdventureMan and my Mom had the Vegetable Fritatta, and I had the Eggs Benedict:
We hope all our friends who celebrated Thanksgiving yesterday will take it easy on the Black Friday shopping, don’t get too excited, don’t fight over those great bargains. Have a great day.
Shop Till You Drop
Running into the Target is so easy – it is one of the nearest stores, and now that Targets also carry essential foods, it makes shopping quick and easy.
For me, anyway. As I was checking out, I saw this adorable little girl. Her grandmother said it was OK to shoot this photo:
Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus at Macys in Philadelphia
What a great way to start my day! Thank you, Momcat, for this wonderful new cultural random happening, this time at a large Macy’s in Philadelphia. Of course, this music is one I put on if I am feeling down; it lifts me right back up. 🙂
“To Serve You More Efficiently”
This is a photo we saw yesterday in the drive-through window at McDonalds. I will add that AdventureMan hates any kind of drive-through because he thinks there is a greater chance of not really getting what you ordered, but I love the convenience, and I was only ordering one simple thing:
Excuse me? If you have four ladies coming back from a shopping trip (say like) and each wants to pay her own order, you can’t do that? To serve us more efficiently, we can only make two orders per car? If I were a fast-food chain which relied on my customer’s good will, I would serve them, period.
Whenever a bank or a store or a fast-food joint start a sentence with “to serve you more efficiently” start looking for CUTS in service – shorter hours, fewer free services, fewer employees, fewer amenities.
Joe Patti’s Fresh Seafood
We have died and gone to heaven. At a time in our life when fish is a very good thing, we have come to another place where seafood is plentiful and delicious. (Kuwait and Qatar were also fish heavens 🙂 )
We have often eaten at Joey Patti’s, but had only glimpsed the Joe Patti outlet next door. Oh WOW. While I will still be buying at Maria’s because it is so close to where I live, Joe Patti’s is what Michelin calls “worth a trip.” They have wild salmon, cut into steaks, my all-time favorite. Good salmon, seared, cooked just through, has a moist, buttery taste I crave, with none of the high-cholesterol drawbacks of butter. 🙂
Joe Patti’s is HUGE, and full of seafood. Not just seafood, but anything associated with seafood, like spices, like prepared seafood salads, like condiments, and cooking equipment. Even some great palate-cleansing gelato. 🙂
Here is how you get there:
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