So, I finally picked up the coach cushions that were getting reupholstered for my mid-century living room couch, and I stopped off at the local farm and fleet store to get furniture markers so I could repair some scratches in my IKEA bookcases, though I didn't only do that, but I also restored the rubbed-down top of my one cheap coffee table, since the marker pack had the right colors and I thought "Why not?" and I tried it out and it looked better.
Between all of that stuff and the area rug that I got this winter, my little cottage really looks pretty decent, I do have to say.
Anyhow, the farm and fleet store was miraculous -- a shoe section where I got some good sandals on sale, and huge sections for pets and for yards, and then just huge shelves of prepackaged foods up by the registers, where I got like two pounds of standard trail mix and a fifty-cent slice of cooked fatty bacon wrapped in plastic and marinating in some curry sauce, made by some meat-curing place up in Minnesota (it was on sale).
"I love this store," my one former assisted living client with disabilities's (lesbian) sister said as we walked out into the parking lot, as I ate my bacon.
She says her aunt buys all her cleaning supplies there.
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