Stole the skillet, stole the lead
It's not the best way to get up, hearing CNN reporting that they have special video footage now from the town of a dear friend of yours. Happily, I suppose, it was just severe weather and not a particularly horribly violent event; on the other hand, that does mean that it's something I can be fairly sure hit him to some extent. I'm hoping that he's all right. (And I should complain; he had to wake up in the middle of the hailstorm.) [ Edit: He's just fine, and apparently didn't realize his town had been on CNN. ]
My father bought a five-pound box of matzoh bread at the supermarket. This was a particularly good deal: the coupon we had specified that it was free as long as we bought the five-pound box. Dad asked me a couple times what we had to do to claim the free matzoh -- was it a buy-one get-one-free deal, for example -- and after reading the coupon a couple times over I had to conclude, ``We just have to eat it.'' Five pounds of matzoh is a stack of unleavened bread the length from my elbows to my fingers (on that same arm).
However, when we went to the cash register to ring it -- and the rest of the week's groceries -- up, the cashier got about two-thirds of the way through the cart and then either he hit something or the cash register hit a glitch, because it rang up the cost of the entire purchase and charged the debit card (which my father had pre-swiped for his convenience) and of course had not entered any of the coupons. He was lethargically apologetic, but couldn't explain what happened with the cart, and suggested that we could take the coupons to Customer Service to have them processed, if we really wanted to. So I was relieved of my duties of bagging and sent to Customer Service with all the coupons, where they were mutely accepted by the Customer Service cashier. We got back in total $9.26, so, yeah, it was probably worth the side trip. And in the end the box of matzoh was free.
The one thing is, we're not Jewish.
That doesn't stop one from eating and enjoying matzoh, of course, it just means we don't eat all that much of it, all that often. Five pounds might be enough to last well into fall. I suspect either my mother sent us out to buy slightly healthier than average snacking foods (I assume matzoh is healthier than Frito-Lay chips) or my father was beguiled by the free-ness the coupon offers.
Trivia: In 1222 the minimum salary for a vicar in England was set at £3 per year. Source: 1215: The Year of the Magna Carta, Danny Danziger, John Gillingham.
Currently Reading: Sol's Children, Edited by Jean Rabe, Martin H Greenberg.