Yes!!! City Market (Kroger) got milk! I was on that US highway yesterday, going after it. It was a “getting back on the horse” thing, too. Last time I went to Alamosa for groceries was two months ago I fell bringing my groceries in from the car. Totally my fault. I was overloaded with junk and not watching where I was going. I’ve made that drive weekly since I moved here, pretty much. It was nice to be back on the highway, driving fast, listening to music, and dodging semis.

I got the whole dairy parade of my life: milk, yogurt, and cream. I know, I know, not a big deal in the grand scheme of life, in the face of the copious scary news stories, but wow. MILK! I was happy. I was also happy to see the young woman who brought out my groceries. It hit me; I’ve been doing that for a long time — six years. There’s almost no turnover in the people who bring out the pick-up orders. We’ve been through a lot “together,” COVID, the start of their families, and egregious politics. So what’s community? Driving home, I realized THAT’S community, too.

When I got home, I thought about what she’d done — and not the first time. She’d given me the biggest allowable bunch of bananas; 7. She’d put my groceries in paper bags, a minor “no, no,” but she knows I find them helpful for picking up the dog shit. She has dogs, too, and we’ve shared photos. Every perishable item — from coleslaw to cream — had a distant “best by” date. OK, it’s a good way to keep a good customer, but it’s also very, very kind and thoughtful.

At the store, when I checked to make sure I had her name right so I could leave a good review, she said, “We all know your name. You’re famous here, in a good way.” We’ve talked about that, too. I’ve been there when customers were loudly verbally abusing her or another of the delivery people, just because the store didn’t have something the customer had wanted. It wasn’t the fault of the person who brought out the groceries, but they were taking the shit from the customer.

I was there to listen when one of these kind people learned that his yet-unborn first child might be born with a genetic birth defect. It turned out not to be the case. I’ve been part of a young woman’s decision to go back to university even though it was hard for her the first time because 1) she was helping support her alcoholic mom, and 2) she’s black. Not a lot of black people in the San Luis Valley. She graduated this past fall. Another had discovered my paintings online and loved them. He wears a beaded bracelet, and one bead is lapis lazuli. I told him about how beautiful blue paint is made from that stone and showed him some in one of my paintings. His bracelet also had a malachite bead, and I told him that it made paint, too. As he walked back to the store, he was looking at his bracelet. All of this is a lesson in the power of kindness, two-way kindness.

I drove home listening to Talk-Talk and thinking about the mechanical improvements in my life since last year. Because of the electric snow shovel, I can open my back gate. It made it possible for me to get the snow and ice away from the gate immediately in the recent storm. I have an electric garage door opener, so I don’t have to get out of Bella to open the door, which enhances my safety. THAT made it possible for me to get my groceries into the house without braving the Yard Perilous. I also thought that 1) in the hundreds of times I’ve cleaned up dog shit, I only hurt myself once, and 2) in the hundreds of times I’ve brought in my groceries, I’ve only hurt myself once. Do I really want to let these scary moments curtail my life, maybe out of proportion? I don’t think that can be good.

I have loved this poem forever and posted it before, but here it is again.

Anyone who genuinely and constantly
With both hands,
Looks for something
Will find it.

Though you are lame and bent over
Keep moving
Toward the Friend
With speech and silence, with sniffing about, stay on the track

When some kindness comes to you, turn
That way, toward the source of kindness.
Love-things originate in the ocean.
Restlessness leads to rest.

Rumi, One Handed Basket Weaver

Now I shall take out my Bear and hope no one else has a similar idea. We need our moment…

P.S. Someone asked “What’s an electric snow shovel?” Essentially, it’s a small snow blower. Here’s a link if you’re curious.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2026/01/30/rdp-friday-junk/