Missed my Calling
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Today I
bring you the banal, the mundane, my trite self-discovery in household hints.
Soap-pads Ohso Special. Also known
as SOS or, in Espanol, “fibra metalica”.
Can you believe I could not find any of those soap-embedded,
finely-shredded wirey scrub pads that I think of as SOS pads, no matter the
brand? Not anywhere in town.
I am a
proponent of shopping locally. Though my town is small, I generally find whatever
I need in a store right around the corner. Fruterias and aborrotes abound, that
is, fruit and vegetable stands or grocery tiendas.
As I
said, we are a small town. Our tiendas are small but abundant, one on every
block. Shelves are crowded. The item I search out might be behind other items,
high on a shelf or behind the counter. One learns to inquire.
Other
stores are specialized. Like the spice lady or the herb man. Or my favorite
cremeria. Or the egg lady who doesn’t have a store but sells eggs out her front
door while chickens run loose in the back yard. Or the strawberry truck or the
woman who scrapes and chops Nopale cactus in the Mercado.
Often I
shortcut the search process by asking Leo or Josue or Erica, “Where can I find
a whichit?” If they don’t know, it might not exist. Then, and only then, I
might put it on my list to bring from the States.
My last trip, I returned with a new
deck of playing cards and leafy-lettuce seeds, which I can get here but didn’t
know where until this very week. Other times I’ve brought pickling spices, jar
lids and rings, and a particular shampoo.
Oops,
almost forgot the other resource—the Big City. When Leo asked me if I needed
anything from Costco, I showed him my empty Ajax box for “fibra metalica”
scrubbies. Maybe I’m sexist but when I sent a man to buy a special cleaning
tool, I was not surprised he returned empty-handed.
Back to
my wished for soap-pads. I bought a box a couple years ago. Ajax brand, printed
in Espanol. Contents, five pads which I used stingily and judiciously because I
knew they were a rare item.
My
drinking water comes in twenty liter jugs. In my kitchen area I have a Mexican-style
water reservoir with a spigot on a stand. The jug sits upended on the reservoir.
If one is in a hurry or careless with the spigot, water might drip onto the
floor. Over time, a mineral deposit builds.
I’ve
used razor blades, vinegar, and CLR and they all work, sort of work, with generous
application of elbow grease. Quite by accident, I used the last soap bubble of
my last pad, swish, swipe, and wiped out the entire calcium deposit of the
ceramic tile, Vila! Shine restored.
Most of
us, well, some of us, Okay, “I” have a dirty little secret; an area I hate to
clean and put off scrubbing but my procrastination leaves a grimy residue on my
consciousness. Water in our area is laden with minerals. My shower tiles are
despicable but nicely hidden. They only bother me. But bother me they do.
Hence—my sudden need to find soap pads once I discovered how quickly and easily
they work on tile.
I threw
my brain up on the rack and pulled and stretched until it yielded the secret of
where in the world I might have purchased my Ajax pads. In Magdalena there is a
fairly large, warehouse type bodega. I have not shopped there in the last
couple years. The store carries things on the shelf which are hard to find in
our town, things like yeast and soap pads.
I
trotted around the corner to con Lani into a trip to Magdalena. She’s an easy
touch and we had a good outing, each finding things we wanted, including my
soap pads and more leafy lettuce seeds.
When
you come visit, I shall hand you sunglasses to don when I show you my sparkling
shower tiles. I missed my calling. I should be in advertising.
Sondra Ashton
HDN: Looking out my back door
August 29, 2019
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