There was one sci fi movie long ago and another recently that told the tale of people being shrunken down to a minute size. Their economy in doing so almost paid for the process they suffered to get that way. I'm not sure what their end results were, but hopefully they somehow returned to their original size to match everyone around them. That could be called a happy ending. Looking at my grocery delivery today, it wasn't a happy ending. I'm not going to join the plethora of complainers, suers and blamers out there, but I sort of want to today. The turkey for Thanksgiving is no bigger than a roasting chicken that would have cost a lot less. When I saw what has to feed six adults this holiday Thanksgiving weekend coming up, was laughable and those who live on the floor above and below must have heard my laughter of hilarity when I saw this tiny, little Grade A bird that looked like something from the land of the shrunken people. The sack of stuffing croutons was bigger than the festive bird. Since we usually have to send everyone home with turkey meat and find containers for such, I comforted myself with that thought while in wonder over the tiny turkey, a mere icon of our big ones inThanksgivings Past. There would be no left overs this year, and I will go easy on the stuffing mix and use half of the cranberry sauce in something else. Both dwarf the bird. Later, I saw the little bag of flour that used to be big at the same price, I'm not sure if I will use my bread flour for indulgences such as full loaves and perhaps make buns instead. There were no brussels sprouts, the fresh kind so I may have to opt for frozen, if I can find them. My usual root veggie dish with carrots, turnips and parsnips would make up for it. Or so I thought. When I put away the carrots and parsnips, both at luxury store prices, I searched for the turnip. Rutabaga is usually the size of three or four oranges that I no longer buy due to their high cost and low quality now. At the bottom of the paper bag, there was a little hard thing the size of a mandarin orange. Lo and behold, it was my turnip. I didn't know that they grew miniature ones. This was one and it certainly would not hold its own in my root veg casserole. Another order for turnip would be doubled to make up for the shrunken turnip in spite of its giant sized cost. When I extracted the baby turnip from, the bottom of the sack, once again my peals of laughter could be heard far and wide. Other than the big box of cereal that has so far not been shruken by today's economy I noted that the jarred items had certainly gone the way of sci fi. The little squatty jars were so small they looked as though they belonged on the shelves of a play house. The mayo and the cheese spread that is my fave comfort food, will no longer be slathered onto my toast. They will be knifed across with speed and agility, to become but a slight flavouring of their former selves, rather than a nice squishy delight that pushed out the side of a sandwich as it once did. What used to be ten paper bags for recycle,have been reduced to only half of that. That's the good news. The use of paper is thus reduced, but my grocery bill is not. It goes up and up, and ever up but never down.
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