Everything Costs!

I had an epiphany this week. I’m reading a book called French Women Don’t Get Fat. That’s not what my epiphany was about, but it is a fascinating book—probably “food” for a future blog entry. The book talks about how European women—French women in particular—look at food in a way that is vastly different than we Americans. It’s no secret that we Americans tend to “Hoover” our food—often in the car, standing up or at our desks. Having spent time in Spain earlier this year, I saw these theories in action—Spanish women overall are not nearly as heavy as their American counterparts, in spite of decadent pastry shops on every corner. I highly recommend the book—it might inspire you to re-think your own relationship with food.

One of the concepts that the author discusses is the wonder and delight of preparing one’s own food from start to finish, including the menu planning and the shopping. That’s where my epiphany came in. I love to eat and I love to cook. I used to love to shop, but find more and more that I dread the process. After reading French Women Don’t Get Fat, I figured out why and quite frankly, I’m a little ashamed of myself. (But not so ashamed that I won’t share with my readers. Oh heck—I can’t keep anything from you!)

I’ve been making a concerted effort to live my life more joyously and more responsibly. Joyously to take care of me, and responsibly to take care of my community, my planet, and the future generations to follow. I’ve gotten better at recycling, healthy eating, simplifying, conservation, giving back, and living by my own values. Supporting local businesses has become my pet project.

Why then, I ask you (rhetorically) do I persist in purchasing the bulk of my groceries at the Monster Store (I call it this because it is both big and scary)? The name shall go unmentioned, but they are not local, don’t operate in conjunction with my personal values, don’t have the freshest products, have terrible customer service and use enough darn plastic bags in packing up my groceries to wallpaper the Governor’s Mansion twice over. (Does a small bunch of bananas really require its own sack and why the heck do they put my plastic milk carton in a bag when it has a perfectly fine handle of its own? And come to think of it, why I am I buying non-organic milk in the first place?).

The answer is simple. I am frugal. Not cheap, not miserly, not austere, but definitely thrifty. I learned it from my mother and it has become part of who I am. It came in handy when I was a single parent pinching pennies. If I can go to the Monster Store and get items cheaper than at my local grocers, I will do it. I will grit my teeth, wait in line for exorbitantly long periods, and drive rather than walk to a cavernous store that also sells tires, CDs and plumbing supplies alongside its produce and meats all to save a few dollars. I will compromise my values, search longingly (and fruitlessly) for a clerk to help me find a product in its vast aisles and maneuver a cart (that inevitably has one broken wheel) up and down miles of concrete to the accompaniment of screaming children and people stopped in the middle of the aisles yacking into their cell phones, oblivious to the line of gridlocked carts they are causing to pile up behind them. I will do this all to engage in the benefits of rollback pricing. Hypocrisy—thy name is Maureen.

Mind you, I have no issue with others who shop at the Monster Store. I have empathy for the working parent who has a million and one things to juggle and needs to do one-stop shopping as much as possible and needs to feed a family of four on a “family of two” budget. I understand the elderly person of limited means who needs to stretch every penny. Not everyone has the time to make separate trips to the meat market, the produce market, the pharmacy and the flower shop. If time and/or money are limited or if getting persnickety about where one shops for groceries is not high on one’s priority list, then I applaud each and every customer who shops there. There is no doubt that the Monster Store offers discounts, variety and convenience. I’m all about live and let live.

But, it’s not me! And that’s where my epiphany comes in. (You thought I’d never get there, huh?). I am an empty-nester with flexible hours and while I am not wealthy or even debt-free, the few dollars I save each month are hardly going to place me on the list of North Denver’s Wealthiest Women. (Is there such a list by the way?) As I waited in line at the Monster Store this past week, frantically loading my groceries on to the belt in an effort o expedite the checkout process so that the six people in line behind me wouldn’t be kept unduly waiting, I noticed the tension in my shoulders, the tightness in my stomach, the mild little headache forming just over my right eye. I also felt the pang of my conscience, gently admonishing me to “remember who I am.”

I made the decision. No more. Frugality be damned. Some things are more important than a few dollars. I hereby pledge to revel in the eating process from start to finish. No more running the Monster Store gauntlet. I will walk or ride my bike to wonderful local shops in my neighborhood. I’m giving up chocolate bars loaded with corn syrup and heaven knows what for the occasional indulgence of really good chocolate from Le Chocolatier--the locally owned chocolate shop just minutes (by bike!) from my home. I’m counting on my blog readers to hold me to it! And maybe, if it feels right, to try it yourself!