Karen Schulz - Living My Dash

  Costco and Walmart are two of the stores I frequent that require customers to show their receipts before leaving the store. But every time I hand mine over, I can’t help but notice how quickly the checker glances at it. Sometimes it’s just a swipe of the highlighter across the paper, other times it feels like they barely look at it at all. It always makes me wonder—what’s the point? Is it truly a safeguard against theft, or more of a formality to remind us that the store is keeping watch? Maybe it’s simply a deterrent—just enough of a check to discourage someone from trying to sneak something past the register. I admit I typically don't want to stand in a potentially long line to have someone take a cursory look at my receipt. I just want to get out of the store, get my purchases in my car, and get on my way. And yes, I’ll also admit—having to show my receipt can make me a little cranky. I don’t let it show, but inside I’m definitely thinking, “Come on already!” I mentioned this...

 Until today, if I ordered a slice of berry pie at a restaurant, I’d eat it, enjoy it, and think nothing of leaving a berry or two—maybe even three—on the plate. I’m not so sure I could do that now. Why, you ask? I just spent a week at our daughter’s new home in Idaho, where she has multple blackberry and blueberry plants. Every morning before the heat set it, we’d head out with our baskets, picking berries until our baskets were full. By evening, more berries had ripened, so we’d go out again. We did this every day I was there, and today, the day we are leaving, hundreds of berries still remain to be picked. At some point during the berry picking I started wondering—if my daughter sold these, how far would they travel before ending up in a pie on my plate? Through the hands of distributors, through markets, delivery trucks, and bakers, all so I can enjoy dessert. And I was leaving berries on my plate? Not anymore. From now on, if I have berry pie, I’m eating every last berry. And ...

 I may never eat fruit again. I mean it. Not after what flew out of my organic waste bin the other day. Let me back up. Here in California, we're now required to separate our organic waste from the rest of our trash. It's good for the environment. It's good for the planet. And I’m all for it—or was until  the other day. Like a lot of people, we keep a small organic waste container on our kitchen counter. It’s convenient. Just lift the lid, toss in your apple core, banana peel, strawberry tops, and you’re done. When the container is full, toss the contents into a larger receptacle for collection. Only this time, when I lifted the lid, a cloud of fruit flies flew straight up into my face. I felt like I was in the middle of a horror movie. I slammed the lid down, and immediately started swatting at the creepy little things that had escaped. When I was finished, I thought.... where do these fruit flies come from anyway? Seriously!  Where? I wash my fruit, of course. Usually. ...