I'm back in Minnesota now, spending the holidays with my mom and family. The big family Christmas dinner was at my mom's place this year, and as we were getting ready for the gang to arrive, my mom realized that she had no salt in the house. So off I went to Walgreens (for reasons that I cannot fathom there's one on every corner in this country now). It's open all the time, and they have just about everything. Interestingly enough, the store was full of people. As I looked around wondering what they were doing in the store in Christmas morning, I noticed that everyone had that look of "I have been sent." That included me, of course, for I had been sent for salt. Deciding to streamline the process and escape the aisles filled with lost souls as quickly as possible, I found myself in a conversation that could only happen in snowy Minnesota. I asked the clerk where I could find some salt. She asked me what kind. I stared at her blankly but in my mind was wondering what kind of stupid question that was. She snapped me out of my stupor by clarifying—"table salt or sidewalk salt?"
But of course!