Tag: shopping

Columns

Living the next-level adulting dream

Cindy Hval

There’s something deliciously rewarding about reaching a stage in life where you can finally purchase something you’ve always wanted but previously denied yourself, believing it to be a frivolous expense.

In times past, for me, that might have been buying a cute pair of strappy sandals or a blingy bracelet, but I seem to have achieved a new tier of adulthood.

After a stressful few weeks, I decided to engage in some retail therapy. I bypassed the malls and the cute boutiques and headed to At Home and Target.

As my sons would say, “That’s some next-level adulting.”

On my list: one thing I’ve always wanted and one thing I desperately needed.

Hold on to your hats, kids, this is where it gets exciting! What I needed was an electric can opener. (Your ideas of excitement may differ.)

In the past few months, I’ve spent almost $40 trying to replace my dull, aging and utterly useless manual can opener.

Efforts to open a can of tomato sauce or pinto beans became endurance contests involving much swearing. The opener consistently skipped a section of the lid. I’d start over only to have it glide over the top again, leaving me with a jagged-edged, partially opened can.

I assumed it was worn out and bought a standard $12 replacement. It, too, proved worthless. I thought it might be me, so I left the can opening to my husband.

Guess what? He didn’t have any better luck. The atmosphere in our kitchen grew quite colorful because his profanity vocabulary is much more advanced than mine.

Back to the store I went. This time, I brought home a fancy high-end brand. It didn’t work any better – in fact, it was worse. Derek pronounced it useless and suggested he dig out his Swiss Army knife.

“I’m going shopping tomorrow,” I replied.

My first stop was At Home, where I picked up a sleek black Cuisinart electric can opener for $25.

Next, I headed to Target.

It may surprise you to know the thing I’ve always coveted is a Black & Decker Dustbuster. How I raised four sons and owned multiple cats without a cordless handheld vacuum is a mystery. Did I mention we’ve lived in a late 1970s-era split-level home for 32 years?

Every spill or trail of dust or dirt (aka boy residue) on the stairs meant lugging out the vacuum or grabbing a broom and dustpan. Cleaning crumbs from couch cushions involved wrestling with vacuum attachments.

A quick trip through the self-checkout, and the treasure was all mine.

As soon as the Dustbuster was charged, I used it on the stairs. Within a minute, no trace of cat hair remained. I had so much fun; I took it on a home tour, busting dust on window ledges and under cupboard edges.

I was in a bit of a tizzy as our youngest son was driving home from Texas for a visit. My version of killing the fatted calf is mixing up a big batch of Creamy Taco Soup in the slow cooker.

Like I said, I was a bit distracted. I plugged in my Cuisinart can opener and mistakenly opened a can of chicken noodle soup instead of cream of chicken soup.

But let me tell you, both of those cans opened easily. No glitches. No partially opened cans. No swearing!

Retail therapy, adult style, may not be glamorous, but I’m living the dream, one small convenience at a time.

Columns

Saying no to online shopping

Cindy Hval

As if requesting a straw with my water at restaurants isn’t quirky enough, my friend Sarah recently discovered I have another quirk.

I don’t shop online. Ever.

“How can this be?” she asked. “You’re an introvert. You can order groceries without ever leaving your home, yet you go to the grocery store every week!”

Sarah shops almost exclusively from her phone or computer. Food, household products, clothes, shoes and even undergarments are delivered to her door.

She does enjoy supporting local businesses by browsing at the small shops in the Garland District, and she buys most of her books at Wishing Tree Books in the South Perry neighborhood. But everything else, from broccoli to breath mints, comes from online vendors.

I am an introvert who has to extrovert a lot for work, so she’s right in assuming that given a choice, I’d rather avoid people-ing during non-work hours. However, scratch-cooking and meal planning relaxes me, and honestly, I don’t trust strangers to pick out my produce.

I’ve seen Instacart shoppers toss heads of lettuce into their gigantic trolleys without looking for rusty brown spots. I’ve watched as they shove packages of rib eyes into plastic bags without checking for moderate marbling.

To be fair, how could a stranger know how marbled I like my steak or how ripe I want my cantaloupe?

As I told another friend, “I don’t want anyone else thumping my melons. I can do it myself.”

She guffawed but knew exactly what I meant.

While I don’t exactly love loading up on toilet paper and bottled water at Costco, free samples are back! This is a great way to find out if you should indulge in that pricey Havarti or stick with the giant block of cheddar.

Of course, I always buy something there that’s not on my list. But gosh darn it, I needed that cute black-and-white skort and those huge fluffy beach towels, each one large enough to enfold two adults!

And my Fred Meyer forays often change up pre-planned menus. Recently, I found some gorgeous hothouse tomatoes (not on my list) and a sale on whole wheat pasta. I scrapped the planned grilled chicken and salad and decided to make pasta pomodoro.

Sure, I could have had tomatoes delivered via Instacart, but it was seeing their lush ripeness that made me want to cook with them.

Food aside, I can’t imagine ordering clothes online. For a writer, I’m pretty unimaginative. I can’t picture how a blouse or a pair of slacks will look on me by gazing at a photo.

I know you can return online purchases, but I don’t want the hassle. I’d rather grit my teeth, go to a store, and try things on in the fitting room.

But the most compelling reason I prefer to shop at brick-and-mortar stores is screen exhaustion. I spend five days a week at my desk in front of my computer. If I’m not at my computer, I’m on my phone, calling, texting or Googling. The last thing I want to do at the end of the day or on a weekend is spend more time online.

I don’t want to look at a picture of a peach. I want to feel its soft fuzz and weigh the heft of it in my hand. Instead of clicking on an image of a floral bouquet, I want to see what’s blooming at Trader Joe’s.

I guess I really do want to stop and smell the roses.

Pushing my chair away from my desk, grabbing my car keys and heading to the shops gives me a welcome disconnect from screen time.

Even better, it allows me to connect with my neighborhood and the people who live and work in it. A box left on my doorstep can’t do that.

Columns

Blue Light Specials and Zebra Print

Cindy Hval

The zebra-striped short spring jacket shamed me from the closet.

I hadn’t worn it once in the last two years, so as per my policy, it was time to send it off to Goodwill.

But first I shrugged it on. I’m not going to lie. It’s a cute coat. It’s also one of the last things my mom bought for me while she still enjoyed shopping.

How long have I had it? Well, she purchased it at Kmart in Spokane Valley, a few years before it closed in 2019. She bought herself one, too. One of us was never a fan of “dressing your age.”

Mom had three hobbies, reading, sewing and shopping. I inherited her love of the first, but prolonged exposure to the others only led me to develop a strong antipathy to both.

No matter. Mom loved nothing more than shopping for others. One of her favorite haunts was Kmart. It’s no coincidence that when we moved to North Spokane when I was 16, the store was within easy walking distance of our house.

Even prior to moving nearby, Kmart was a family fixture.

Who can forget the excitement of the blue light special!? Even better if that blue light flashed from the deli.

Long before there was a Subway on every corner, the Kmart deli introduced us to submarine sandwiches. The plastic-wrapped subs featured ham, bologna, salami and American cheese. Topped with thinly sliced tomatoes, a couple of pickle slices and tons of shredded lettuce, these were a real treat because our family didn’t frequent fast food restaurants.

Actually, I preferred the ham sandwiches. Cooked ham, mayo and shredded lettuce on a fluffy white hamburger bun. Yum!

Of course, Mom was there for the bargains. Any kid growing up in the ‘70s likely had a pair of moon boots from Kmart and, probably a pair of knock-off Keds. The white canvas shoes were worn by generations of women and children. Mom still has several pairs of those slip-on shoes in her closet.

By the time I was a teen, I rebelled against any item of clothing purchased at the store. The final straw was when Mom bought me a puffy navy blue parka with a hood. I was 14. I knew a puffy parka with a hood in a BOY color was social suicide.

“It’s Kmart Fall Apart!” I wailed. “I will never leave this house in that coat!”

Sadly, I did leave the house in that coat, but I took it off as soon as I reached the end of the driveway.

Flash forward a few years. I’m an at-home mom with three boys under 5. My now-retired dad would pick Ethan, 4, and Alex, 2, up on Tuesday mornings while baby Zach and I stayed home.

He’d drop Mom off at Bible study, deliver Ethan to preschool, and then he and Alex would head to Kmart. Alex got a spin (or two) on the merry-go-round at the entrance, and then they’d head to the deli, where Dad sipped coffee and Alex munched a big chocolate chip cookie.

Dad died weeks before Alex’s third birthday, but I hope somehow he still remembers his special dates with Papa Tom.

Mom took over dates with her grandsons. She didn’t drive, but she’d pack whichever boy was visiting in an umbrella stroller and set off in search of a blue light special. When they outgrew the stroller, they walked with her, confident they’d get a treat or a new toy when they got to the store.

She doesn’t shop anymore. Alzheimer’s-induced anxiety makes outings stressful, but at 92, she knows all my sons by name and often tells stories about their Kmart adventures.

Who knew so many memories could be triggered by a lightweight zebra-striped jacket with a Jaclyn Smith label?

I pulled it from the donate bag and hung it back in my closet.

There’s no shame in holding onto memories. Especially, when you can touch them and feel once again, the warmth of your mother’s love.

Columns

Silver linings in cloudy COVID-19 world

Cindy Hval

My doorknobs and light switches have never been cleaner.

The banister absolutely gleams.

Four months into the COVID-19 pandemic, I’m working hard at counting my blessings, and having much-touched areas of our home that rarely got a wipe-down, sparkling is one of them.

With no end in sight to restrictions and shutdowns, it’s easy to be overwhelmed by daily helpings of bad news.

I still haven’t been able to visit my mother. If I’d known when I saw her in February how many months would pass before I could see her again, I would have moved her spring and summer clothes to the front of her closet, so she could easily find them.

“Getting dressed every day is hard when I can’t go anywhere,” she said. “But I’m not staying in my bathrobe.”

And I’d looked forward to a quick break out of town when Derek had to go to the Tri-Cities on business. Last summer, I lounged by the pool when he worked, and we visited wineries and enjoyed a river cruise when he was done.

When I called the hotel to make the reservation, I was told the hotel pool and all its restaurants were closed.

I stayed home while Derek traveled to COVID Central and back.

Such small complaints when compared to those who’ve been sick, or lost jobs, or loved ones because of the virus.

So, I’m committed to counting my blessings, even though a recent grocery store visit vexed me.

How the heck do you open those darn plastic produce bags without licking your finger first? I spent most of my shopping trip trying to open them. I even rubbed them between my hands, but all I got was wrinkly bags.

When I posted my lament on social media, a friend suggested swiping my finger across damp lettuce or celery.

I tried it on my next shopping trip. Success! It worked like a charm, but I’m sure the produce clerks wondered why I was fondling the lettuces without buying any. Also, this is why you should always, always, wash your produce at home.

On the same outing my irreverent sense of humor caused me some embarrassment when a woman across the aisle from me sneezed. At home, I’ve taken to saying “Corona” instead of “Bless you,” when someone sneezes. Luckily, my mask muffled my response, and hopefully her mask muffled her sneeze.

Also, I learned the hard way that folks can get somewhat panicky when you say you’re not going somewhere because you feel a bit “corona-y.”

One of the biggest complaints about COVID-19 restrictions is folks feeling stuck or trapped at home. This is where introverts like me have it made. I love being at home – especially when I have it all to myself. Our son has been back at work for the past month, and Derek’s business is essential, so now at least a couple of days a week I have stretches of solitude.

When I’m done with work, I take my daily walk, and then relax in our backyard gazebo. Then I harvest zucchini, radishes, raspberries, blueberries and strawberries from our garden. Soon there’ll be tomatoes, green beans, beets and carrots.

Our garden goodies fill our plates every Sunday when our three sons join us for supper – and since corona we’ve revived our family game night tradition.

Another coronavirus blessing is library curbside pick up.

I’ve always selected my books online and then picked them up at the library, but now I don’t even have to leave my car! It’s like a literary drive-thru.

While I am doing more in-person interviews for work, I still do a lot more phone interviews than before. The time saved on driving is a boon.

In fact, I actually picked up a new hobby – the daily crossword. My mom always did the newspaper puzzles and had books of crosswords, but I never felt like I had the time.

Now, I take the puzzle page with me out to the gazebo every afternoon. No New York Times in ink for me – just the Daily Commuter. It’s easy enough to finish quickly, which makes me feel accomplished and smart.

The daily puzzle reawakened my love for pencils. I hadn’t used a pencil since I was in college, and it’s such a delight to rediscover the joy of good old No. 2’s. Even better, the Chic and Shab shop on North Monroe has a whole line of pencils with edgy sayings etched on them.

The beautiful thing about pencils is that anything can be erased – mistakes, misspelled words, incorrect answers.

It’s really too bad 2020 wasn’t written in pencil.

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War Bonds

Slinging Books and Shopping Small

Cindy Hval

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Take a group of authors. Give them name badges. Turn them loose in a bookstore. That’s the recipe for Indies First held each year on Small Business Saturday.

The event brings together authors, readers, and publishers in support of independent bookstores. Authors and local celebrities volunteer at events across the country, and publishers offer special terms on books and exclusives.

I had a blast as usual at Auntie’s Bookstore. Chatting with readers, helping them find great gift ideas and catching up with these great authors is always fun.

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Sam Ligon, Kate Lebo, Cindy Hval, Jack Nisbet

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Stephanie Oakes, Cindy Hval, Sharma Shields

One Spokesman Review reader said she came in just to see Jack Nisbet and me, but she walked out with Shop Small shopping bag filled with books. That’s the danger and delight of hanging out in a bookstore!
Another reader stopped by to make sure I was alright. My Thanksgiving column about sometimes finding it hard to be grateful, prompted her concern.

At the end of my shift I rewarded myself with a copy of the delightful anthology Pie & Whiskey: Writers under the Influence of Butter & Booze. My husband and I are reading it aloud every night before bed. It’s a hoot. Honestly, Sam Ligon’s whiskey cocktail recipes are my favorite part. Some drink recipes call for things like a soul, a pistol, a Bible and a sword, but you can still make the drinks without them.

Indies First offers a great way to get customers into independent bookstores, but it’s even more important to support local businesses and Shop Small all year long.

After all, Santa does!

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War Bonds

Shop Small With Me!

Cindy Hval

Mark  your calendars for Indies First, November 25 at Auntie’s Bookstore.

Check out the array of amazing authors who will serve as volunteer booksellers!  I’ll be on duty from 1 Pm- 3 PM and would love to help you find literary treasures to fill your Christmas wish lists.

Support a fabulous Indie bookstore, buy great books and chat with the people who write them.
What could be more fun?

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Columns

Shopping small has big impact

Cindy Hval

By 10:15 Saturday morning, the line at the counter at Auntie’s Bookstore was several people deep. Shoppers juggled stacks of books while reaching for their wallets. A toddler clutched a board book, unwilling to part with her find even for the minute it took to ring it up. Teens milled around in small herds, jostling each other in the aisles, while parents pondered coloring books and consulted Christmas lists.

As a reader and an author, nothing makes me happier than spending time with book lovers. These are my people – my tribe, and in their company surrounded by bookshelves, I am happiest.

While I love to browse at Auntie’s, I wasn’t there to shop, but to take a shift as an honorary bookseller during Small Business Saturday. The day is also a designated Indies First event. Indies First, a collaboration between authors, publishers, retailers and readers, celebrates independent bookstores and local communities. Speaking of local, this national movement was launched by author Sherman Alexie, who was born and raised on the Spokane Indian Reservation.

I have a vested interest in the success of bookstores, and as the wife of a small-business owner, I’m passionate about seeing locally owned companies succeed. I’ve helped out at my husband’s store on occasion, but I have to admit I’m better at selling books than cutting tools. I may not know a drill bit from a tap or a reamer, but I do know mysteries from memoirs.

In addition to interacting with customers, I got to hang out with some pretty cool local authors. When I arrived Jess Walter was already there, and he’d brought donuts a la “Citizen Vince.” Walter fans will remember the protagonist in that novel was in the witness protection program and worked at a Spokane donut shop.

Walter dispensed donuts, recommended books and offered writing advice to an aspiring writer.

“Writing is more like a religion than a career,” he said.

And writers around the world whispered, Amen.

Author Bruce Holbert joined us, and when I mentioned how much I’d enjoyed, “The Mountains and the Fathers: Growing Up in the Big Dry,” by Joe Wilkins, he said, “Oh yeah, I know Joe.”

Turns out he also knows Craig Johnson, author of the Longmire books; the books on which my husband’s favorite television show is based.

I admit to having a geeked-out, fan girl moment or two, but then Shawn Vestal showed up.

I’m sure Shawn knows some awesome authors too, but we mainly discussed surviving a post-election/post-apocalypse Thanksgiving meal – which could be the basis for a hair-raising short story. Stay tuned.

When a customer asked if there was a coffee shop nearby, it was fun to be able to point them to Madeleine’s and Atticus, both nearby, while there wasn’t a corporate coffee shop in sight.

After my stint at bookselling ended, I headed out for my own shopping spree. I stopped to take a photo of the Clocktower against the background of Saturday’s blue skies, when a scraping sound jarred my ears.

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and watched in amazement as an elderly woman pulled out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk! Pedestrians hollered and jumped out of the way as she slowly proceeded down the sidewalk along Spokane Falls Boulevard.

Sometimes shopping is scary, but I made it safely to Boo Radley’s where I purchased some Spokane-themed items to send to my son in Columbus, Ohio. When the clerk rang up my purchases she said, “By the way, I really enjoyed your nonfiction panel at Get Lit this year.”

Shopping small put a smile on my face. It makes business owners happy, too.

John Waite, owner of Auntie’s Bookstore and Merlyn’s Comics and Games, said of Saturday’s event, “We were up from last year at both Auntie’s and Merlyn’s.”

While it’s great to have a day dedicated to supporting local businesses that help create jobs and boost the economy, shopping at small businesses can have a far greater impact if we patronize them more than once a year.

“I can’t stress enough what it means to our local economy and local jobs,” said Waite.

That sounds like a big reason to shop small all year long.

Contact Cindy Hval at dchval@juno.com. She is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories From the Greatest Generation.” You can listen to her podcast “Life, Love and Raising Sons” at SpokaneTalksOnline.com. Her previous columns are available online at spokesman.com/ columnists. Follow her on Twitter at @CindyHval