I opened the mailbox yesterday and the poor thing groaned, what with being stuffed with holiday catalogs. Apparently the deforestation that went into November’s assembly line arrival of enticements wasn’t enough, and now I am getting the “there’s still time to order” versions. Next week it will be “Have it by the 24th” versions and the week after it will be “Order by the 23rd and have it on the 24th” promises.
Look at all these! In just one day. There were over a dozen of them. But I have to acknowledge that this deluge is really my own fault.
Quite frankly, I hate shopping. Not a huge fan of malls, not even fond of department stores. If I must venture over there, I shop with a dedicated list in hand, coupons at the ready, and get it over with the same set of my shoulders that carries me through a dentist appointment. And I do it on a Tuesday morning when no one else is there. No aimless wandering and searching for just the “right” gift. Go in and get out. Rather like a Navy Seal or a member of a Special Forces team.
But catalogs and online shopping just make my day. They offer all the convenience of say, working at home. No crowds, no traffic. Great parking. My choice of piped in holiday songs. I browse through the stack of catalogs, make my list and order at my leisure–or when the free shipping coupon comes through on the email. And I never hit “order” unless I’ve done a Google search for that vendor with the words “coupon code”. I even got lucky enough with one company, Mindware.com, and discovered a free shipping code in my email this morning just before I went online to shop.
However because of my preference to shop via the easy chair, I get buried in catalogs. Like having the mall marching through your mailbox every day, and I get some really odd ones. I had thought that I had seen every catalog out there until I got this one in the mail.
Yes, you are reading that correctly. Totally Tomatoes. Not even I could make this up.
And now it appears, I am now officially on their mailing list. How I got there, I’ve got on clue. (Well, I am on the Territorial Seed Company mailing list so maybe . . . )
But really, holiday shopping from Totally Tomatoes? Who does one send tomatoes to? The reviewer who gave away the surprising and totally brilliant ending of your book? The reader on Amazon who gave you one star and says they hate all your books? (which begs the question, Why do you still keep reading them?) How about a packet of heirloom seeds for the hurricane that shut down much of the South the week your book came out?
Let’s take this a step further, can you imagine the poor kid who gets a gift card from Totally Tomatoes in his stocking? Or worse, your husband becomes convinced that what you really need under the tree is the “Best Paste Tomatoes” Collection? Or even worse, he thinks the “Try 5 of Our Hottest” Collection of peppers will be just the thing to put some holiday zing back into the marriage.
To avoid any confusion, and to prevent what is commonly known as the “Disaster of ’96” in our household, I carried this directly to the recycling bin and then buried it under several inches of Pottery Barn and Land’s End offerings.