If the day were cold and rainy, I would imagine beef stew or borscht creating a homey cloud of fragrance. The world locked outside. Cozy. No place like home.

Today I resolved to let myself browse the grocery store; come up with new eating ideas. Spend some quality time envisioning my table. I will browse the frozen food section, maybe take a closer look at the prepared foods. Learn the parts of the store I have not frequently traveled.

In Sprouts I stand rooted in front of the chicken nuggets. This is a natural food store after all, the nuggets here must be above reproach. The convenience after all – just throw a few of those bad boys in the toaster over and Voila. I can use foil, and have no dishes to cleanup.

I can’t do it – at least not yet. Maybe just buy a single chicken breast and prepare it. I can’t do that either.

Sprouts sells prepared Truffle Burgers. I asked for 2 and if they could be wrapped separately – please. No problem the butcher says and looks at me kindly. Does he know? Does “fresh widow” show in my eyes? The thought of that makes me begin to tear.

A bunch of bright red radishes and the echoes of ensuing chatter with Perry about whether the purchase of those radishes  were worth the price. Paying for all the green stuff at the top that goes bad. I buy them anyway.

I buy a few items and leave the store sans chicken.¬† Just buy enough for 3 meals I coach myself. The art of grocery shopping has left me. I can’t say that the joy has left me because I never really felt joy about it. What it left was a satisfying imprint of meals to come. Stacks of neatly purchased protein and accessories – ready to go. Ready to create the heady ambience of home.

The grocery store is in my top 5 of widow “stressors”.