Not a very good start to the day, this morning when we were out doing our weekly grocery shopping at our usual supermarket where we've shopped for 30 years or so. We always take along with us one of those so-called single-use plastic shopping bags. We save them for this particular use and when we run out we pay five cents apiece for more. We always pack our shopping into reusable fabric or heavy plastic bags, and more commonly use rigid-sided large plastic boxes meant for that purpose that are now quite elderly.

 The 'disposable' bag we take along has a distinct purpose: in it we pack grocery items meant for the local Food Bank. When we exit the store with our purchases we stop first at the large receptacle in the supermarket foyer where shoppers can leave their food donations to be picked up by the drivers for the Food Bank. We've been doing this for longer than I remember, but the need for these donations has become ever more acute among residents of the community who find themselves food-insecure, as they say. 

There are increasingly fewer cashiers employed at the supermarket, made redundant by the new self-check-out units that people who buy only a few items at a time prefer using. We don't. When we approached the check-out this morning there were only two cashier-manned counters open. The usual cashiers appeared to have been replaced by others we didn't recognize. As I emptied our shopping cart and placed the bag with the items meant for the Food Bank on the counter, Irving explained why the food was in the bag and could she please ring them through, we'd repack them.

This explanation isn't required for those who are familiar with us. In our experience, a brief explanation when a new cashier services us is all that's required; the process is self-evident. This middle-aged woman just gaped and looked confused. Irving repeated the same sentence, and a similar reaction recurred. So he said it again, slowly, and louder two more times, then finally asked what the problem was, did she not understand the simple message?

Stone-faced, she rang a supervisor. My husband has a level of patience I don't have. He's a kind and considerate man, going out of his way to be obliging. It's a rare occasion when he loses his temper and he did then. When the supervisor ambled over he addressed them both in frustration, repeating the instructions but tersely. The supervisor turned to the cashier, repeated the sentence slowly, a bulb seemed to go on in the woman's face. And she was unmistakably hostile. By that time Irving was, too.

So, not so good. I had bought for the Food Bank: 2 tins of Heinz pork&beans ($2.98), 2 tins of flaked chicken ($3.98), 2 tins of flaked ham ($3.98), 2 tins of chicken soup ($2.98), 4 tins of tuna ($5.98) and 4 boxes of noodles and cheese dinner ($5.79). We spend between $20 and $25 weekly on these non-perishable items for the Food Bank. This is not the first time we've run up against cashier reluctance to put these items through and/or repack them into the provided bag. In contrast to the many personnel who are courteous and helpful.

But it's an unpleasant experience and we'll no longer continue buying foodstuffs for the Food Bank. Henceforth, we'll send regular cheques so they can access their own supply, as they in all likelihood would prefer. The supermarket where we shop will be out the $20 to $25 we spend weekly on the products they carry, but we will no longer be harassed. That's Food Basics for you.

Thankfully, the balance of the day was far more pleasant. Including stopping off at Farm Boy to augment the shopping done at Food Basics. The puppies were overjoyed to be reunited with us, we put away all the groceries, showered, and had breakfast, relaxing over the newspapers.

And then on a beautiful November 1st, off we went for our afternoon hike through the forest. The morning had been overcast and heavily fogged-in. By mid-afternoon the clouds had dispersed and the sun sailed through an ocean of blue sky. The temperature was a balmy 15C with a light wind, so Jackie and Jillie needed no sweaters for comfort. The aggravation of the morning assault on placid sensibilities dimmed.

We were given a few chuckles during our time in the ravine on such a lovely day, with the antics of our two and those of other doggy companions who found it expedient to leave their humans behind somewhere and go racing uphill and down to where we were, to visit with Irving, the Cookie Man. An air of serenity returned as we ambled along, Irving telling me about the latest debate he watched/listened to online earlier in the day, between Sam Harris and Jordan Peterson.