Surplus in Times of Need

Three extra cans of baking powder sit on the front porch table. We only needed one, but for the first couple weeks of this "new normal",  baking supplies of any kind were scarce on grocery shelves. So I tacked on the smallest quantity I could find to another incoming order, and since then Brian found a can at Giant. Of course.

We now order two dozen fresh eggs along with our mid-week milk delivery from South Mountain Creamery. But we also continue to support the Columbia Pike Farmers' Market with our weekly purchase of two dozen fresh eggs and produce there. So we are rolling in eggs on Easter Sunday. We could hard boil and paint them, I suppose, but instead we are planning Easter omelets for brunch and this evening, a classic cheese soufflé from Julia Child's The Art of French Cooking.

Toilet Paper was already well-stocked before it became the hottest item since Nationals World Series tickets. Then my niece gifted us the remaining multi-pack from her dorm suite three weeks ago as she loaded her worldly goods into our basement and entrusted us with the care of her succulents. It's all one-ply Scotts, which lasts longer than Quilted Northern or Charmin.

We want for nothing, here. Nor are we intentionally hoarding. But I won't lie... that toilet paper feels like a stash of gold buillon. And every time I walk into the kitchen, I hear the whir and trickle of fresh coffee. If there's any stockpiling happening in this house, it's most likely one pound bags of decaffeinated comfort buried deep in our basement freezer.  The coffee pot will never run dry, even if the toilet paper supply eventually dwindles.