Swedish Walmart

"IKEA Frisco TX" by Rainchill - Own work. Licensed under CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons (Source)

Friday afternoon, The Missus Herself reminded me that we had some stuff which needed to be returned to its place of origin. This stuff was either the wrong stuff or stuff which had been purchased for a particular contingency but which was now excess to requirements. That is, it was no longer authorized on the Chez Sarge TO & E*.

Now the latter stuff consisted of: kennel, dog, heavy duty, two each. Back around the Fourth, The Nuke and The Sea Lawyer had planned a visit up to Little Rhody. Now you might recall that those two have a couple of pooches, Kodi and Bear. They are not small pups. They can ride up in the back of The Nuke's off-road vehicle (seats out) but once here they would need a kennel in which to chill out.

Who knew that dogs need "their space" from time to time?

At any rate, due to an illness (Kodi got sick, she's okay now) the trip was cancelled and we were left in possession of:  kennel, dog, heavy duty, two each. As we have felines who make their space wherever the heck they please, the kennels were excess to requirements and had to be returned.

Now the former item in the aforementioned stuff requiring return to its place of origin consisted of a bunch of bed curtains.

"Bed curtains Sarge? Who are you Ebenezer Scrooge?"

No, no, I'm not Scrooge and don't think big old heavy Victorian bed curtains. The ones we have (and which require replacement, due to having two felines who make their space wherever the heck they please) are lacy and light. They are in The WSO's old room on what a young daughter of a friend of ours refers to as "the princess bed."

At present those curtains now have the look of a tattered set of sails off an old schooner which has been through a blow in the North Atlantic in winter.

Okay, they're not that bad, not to mention which I need to throw in a nautical reference from time to time to keep the nautical readers of the blog amused.

As The Nuke likes to say, "Yeah Dad. You're real salty."

"Arrrrr and shiver me timbers." says I.

Anyhoo. The replacement sails, er curtains, were much too long for the bed we have. I would not have noticed but I'm a guy. We don't notice when curtains are tattered, too long or otherwise unserviceable. We also only see in primary colors and everything is either black or white in terms of "nuance." Subtlety is not our strong suit. At least many a female of my species has informed me of these "facts."

Which reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw once up in Vermont...

"All Men Are Idiots. And I Married Their King."

I found that greatly amusing, the three females of my tribe along for the ride looked at me as if I had just laughed at Newton's Third Law.

Apparently facts are just that, facts. Period. Full stop. Not to be laughed at, mocked or trifled with. And here I thought I was the king of the idiots.

Anyhoo, I see I've wandered off topic once again.

The curtains needed to be returned. I asked The Missus Herself where she had purchased them.

"Ikea."

"We have an Ikea?"

"No. But there's one on the way to Boston."

"Boston? As in Massachusetts?"

"No, you great lump. Boston in Westphalia. Of course, Boston in Massachusetts."

Checked the map, and good googly-moogly, that Ikea is some forty miles from our permanent encampment.

"Hhhmm, I didn't know they sold curtains at Ikea..."

"Yes, it's kind of like a Swedish Walmart."

Well, it was the first time in my entire life that I had ever entered an Ikea. I was familiar with the store's purveying of "inexpensive" and hard to assemble furniture but had never actually been in one.

Upon arrival we wended our way to the Ikea parking garage and found a spot. We were almost backed into by some freaking loon who wanted to back his car into a space instead of just pulling into it like a normal person.

I didn't really get a good look but I'm betting he was driving a Volvo and wearing Earth Shoes. While my first instinct was to drive him before me and hear the lamentations of his women, The Missus Herself told me to "calm down, there's a space over there."

It's mortified I was, being deprived of my prey like that. But as the kids like to remind me, we don't live on the steppes back during the days of the Great Khan. If we did, they like to point out that I would probably be a lowly foot soldier. Made to march in camel dung and...

Digressed again, didn't I?

So we enter Swedish Walmart Ikea and The Missus Herself starts marching through the store. I was noticing the low ceilings, the lack of sight lines and the curious throngs of aging hipsters all gawking at the cheap inexpensive merchandise.

Now bear in mind, this was after we had returned the aforementioned curtains. My assumption was that m'lady was on the hunt for replacement curtains.

"No, you great goof. Flower pots. I need flower pots."

Not wanting to ask many questions I stayed in trail and followed her through the store. I was beginning to think we were lost and meandering through the store in hopes of somehow finding the Northwest Passage, er, I mean the way out.

Seeing a pillar with a cache of maps, I snatched one.

Swedish Walmart? More like the Cretan bloody labyrinth.

I half expected to encounter the Minotaur and was keeping my eyes open for something to use as a weapon.

Me at Ikea.
Actually: Theseus and the Minotaur in the Labyrinth by Edward Burne-Jones (Source)

My first trip to Ikea.

I'm rather hoping I'm not forced to repeat the experience any time soon.

Rather an odd place.

Yes, we bought flower pots. No, we didn't buy any curtains.

And there wasn't a meatball in the whole place.

Not that I could have found them even if there were.




*TO & E = Table of Organization and Equipment. For those of you who chose not to chase down that link and wade through The Acronym Page. I'm cool like that, those who want to chase the link can. Those who don't, well here you are. I don't always do this. I'm feeling accommodating today. (See what I did there, gave you a second chance to hit the link. Just in case you missed it up there.)