I don’t know what other people consider their favorite shopping day of the year, but I know that mine is June 30. That’s the last day of the great Brent and Becky Heath bulb catalog sale, when I look forward all spring to just ordering whatever I want, however the amount or the price, knowing I will save “five percent on the early order, by July l, and another five percent for payment in full with the order.” (In other words, with a credit card.)
Oh, I know that actually I could call it in on the first day of July, but that risks all sorts of problems, including being sold out, but also of snafus with my credit card.
It had suddenly dawned on me, the night before, that I was about to miss my deadline. I have this great clock, large lettering, day of the week, date, etc., which I can only see if I have on my regular glasses.
If I’m wearing my large print readers, I have to take them off to look - and it dawned on me that the next day (well, actually, that day by now, was June 28.
So I put aside the large print John Grisham, and pulled out my catalog, and started looking at all of the various new (or new to my garden) offerings.
And I went a bit crazy, ordering new ones from the pictures, old friends to have new ones of, and lots and lots of the new favorites, the “Sensation” series, maybe 30 of each.
Next morning, I settled down in the living room with various things on the table and chairs, handy (or so I had thought) to go through my usual routine and (I’m sure always a trial to the well-trained and patient clerks) is to go through Vicki’s choices.
Well, I hate to admit I’ve gotten too old to do things the same way, but I won’t be doing it that way again. I shall, instead, for several days in advance, in midday lighting, type my list and then carefully decide on the numbers.
But here I was, swapping pages and catalogs, and trying to read my squiggles, and whenever there was a doubt, ordering twice as many, and when the total hit $700, my son took the credit card back and said there wasn’t enough money in the account, and he couldn’t worry about it for hours, probably days, no matter what happened to my bulb order.
And when I informed him that that wasn’t the right card anyhow, that I’d been telling him that I’d told him for months that for three major purchases, these bulbs (on deadline always), for my hairdresser, and for my doctor, it had to be Delta Sky Miles.
He was about to grab it, but I held on, and later tried to use it to order more large print books from Amazon, and found to my delight that it worked just fine.
So now, with a crick in my neck, I’m headed to bed ... and tomorrow or next week, I’ll talk about the bulbs I ordered.