Little Rock

Bring Trader Joe's to Little Rock

Bring Trader Joe’s to Little Rock

I have a love-hate relationship with my hometown. Mostly love. I feel like it’s a well-kept secret. We have access to great outdoor activities, decent shopping and dining and affordable housing. On the downside, our schools need help unless you live in certain attendance zones, we have an overabundance of radical conservatives who do nothing but judge the rest of us on the daily, and there is NO anonymity. None. Want to try to run to Walgreens for tampons or something equally urgent before you’ve showered and brushed your teeth? Forget doing it on the DL. You WILL see someone you know.

I was very proud when Kiplinger’s saw the good in my city and gave us a shout-out recently.

I spent 6 years stalking Chipotle on their twitter, their contact page, their facebook, page…you name it. My campaign was to get the addictive burrito shop to open a location in LR. I stated my reasons, which were much more compelling than “I love Chipotle” (I do. So much.) I even recommended locations for the mythical new store. I engaged with senior managers in the organization, begging them over email. My 6 year campaign worked, and Chipotle opened up their first location in LR in 2011. They announced a second location earlier this year. Both are in locations I recommended during my campaign (I suggested 3 different spots).

My next mission is to get Trader Joe’s to come here. We have a successful Fresh Market and a Whole Foods that stays busy. There’s room for another specialty market with a better price point. Our economy is doing better than most of the country. Our food culture is thriving and evolving. Our downtown is rejuvenating.

Help me! Use the Trader Joe’s contact page to voice your reasons we need a Trader Joe’s. They have a gatekeeper who responds to the emails, but don’t let that deter you. If many folks request a locale & offer compelling reasons why it makes sense, perhaps they’ll start to pay attention.

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Gus: where did you put my shoe?

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Gus is my running buddy. In fact, when he’s not running, he carries my running shoes around the house. He sleeps with his chin on a shoe often. Now, one of my shoes has gone missing. He’s never chewed a running shoe, and even if he chewed it, there would surely be some evidence. No, the shoe has disappeared. Where’d it go, Gus?!

This one

…has has a rough first two weeks of school. Between anxiety, hunger strikes and general disrespect, I’ve been ready to lock her in her room for a few hours. Or days. So the fact that she asked for a boiled egg this morning, then ate it and cleaned up after herself? Pure joy.

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hornet’s nest

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I’m not a morning person. I must start this post with that hard truth. BUT, I also have gotten rather addicted to exercise. This happened during my involuntary 4-month sabbatical. I’d go to an exercise class at 8 or 8:30 am each day because I had the leisure to do so when the rest of the civilized world was getting their productive selves into work. It was fun to pretend to be a tennis mom for a few months.

My sabbatical came to a crashing halt a few weeks ago when I thankfully entered the land of the employed once again. So I learned to wake up at 5:45 am & hit pure barre class or walk a few miles through my neighborhood hills in the dawn’s early light. Again, I’m not a morning person, but the workouts are important to me. Night time exercise just doesn’t work – too many other things tend to get in the way.

My children’s summer fun was rudely interrupted when they started school last week, and between my new job and their new school year, it’s a lot of change to deal with. So we’ve muddled through the past few days, trying to find a rhythm again. Today, that rhythm was completely out-of-whack.

I was feeling flushed and happy to have a workout behind me when I arrived back at home around 7:15 am. My husband and youngest poured out of the house just as I was pulling into the driveway, and they were NOT happy. Conflict is never good in the wee hours of the morning, pre-coffee, and they had a doozy of a conflict over whether she could bring a diet ginger ale to school for lunch (dude. you can’t. quit asking.) There were tears, spankings, and so much more. I walked into a hornet’s nest.