Of all things, I had a conversation this morning about Adirondack chairs with the cashier at Aldi. Her name is Stephanie and she thinks the chairs aren't the right style for her yard. I think they will be perfect for sitting down by the lake and, being plastic, they will be easy to move when the lawn guys come. The chairs will only last a few years because the sun will fry them and then they will crack. But for now, they are just right.

Who cares? Who cares?
Adirondack chairs.
Lean back, don't crack
At least for two years.

Sit here, sit here,
Adirondack chairs.
To talk in groups
Or alone, say a prayer.

Hold towels and bags,
Adirondack chairs.
Moms holding kids,
Dads holding beers.

Close eyes, soak sun,
Adirondack chairs.
Life's too precious
Not to sit and stare.

So I bought Adirondack chairs and avocados. I bought real veggies like cauliflower and colored peppers, and veggie straws which are nothing the same. I bought sugar in the form of fruit: green grapes, blueberries, mangos. Also, tomato paste, bread, and almond milk. 

I love Aldi for its familiarity, for its smallness, for its offerings of adequacy and simplicity: just enough but not too much. I love the grass-fed ground beef, the pineapple-poblano guacamole, the kale in bags, the roasted almonds with sea salt, the berries on sale, the frozen peas and corn, and always the avocados. I love the quick lines, the practice of keeping a quarter handy, the push to remember my bags, and the fun of bagging groceries just the way I want them. There's so much freedom within so many boundaries.

And if you have a little bit of extra time and no kids with you, there's also the fun of standing in the store and staring at the "special buys" to see what you didn't know you needed. You might buy things like Adirondack chairs for cheap, and that means you'll have a place to sit and stare some more.