Getting it home

Okay, so the car was crowded. Crap in the trunk, one more kid and more crap in the back seat. Did I mention this is a Beetle? Fish, my older daughter, who won the wrestling match, takes charge. She straps the flour in, possessive. Notice the teenage texting appendage hard at work. She is seventeen after all. So, the flour goes to our temporary quarters in Park City, Utah, nestled like a fetus. Daughter, flour, car, and phone all made the trip without incident. From here, the flour sat in our vacation condo for a few days, then rode back to California in the trunk of a Prius, ready to fulfill our flour fantasies. Bread, pie, cake, fried chicken coating, cookies, gravy, we are ready for anything.

The flour...

So, this all started with a bag of flour. Not just any flour, Lehi Roller Mills flour to be specific. 25 pounds of it, purchased in Lehi, Utah and driven to California in the back of a Prius. So, why this flour? Because it is the best. You get it by driving up to the mill (see the picture on the bag), entering the public store (at the left in the drawing) and placing your flour order at the counter. I'd picked out a few other things from the floor displays - a bag of brownie mix, a package of cookie mix, then went to the counter. Three kids in back of the counter eyeing me like "Why should we care?" One hands me a list - "What kind?" Too many choices... I take the top one, hard wheat flour, 25 pounds.

"How many bags?"

"Just one." Eyebrows raised in amazement behind the counter. "That's all?"

"Uh, yeah." Oh yeah, this is Utah. No, I don't have 12 kids.

"Okay, I'll carry it out" says the tall blond kid. At the car, my daughter practically grabs the bag out of his arms.

"I've got it from here." One more surprised look from the kid and a slight wrestling match to take control of the flour. And we are off, 25 pounds of flour in tow. Why not?