The Little Old Pear from Patagonia

I’m in love with my local co-op grocery. I portion out my income so that I can afford the above average costs that it takes to support my local business and my local farmer. I enjoy the experience so much that I don’t even try to cheat the scale in the bulk food section (I may or may not have “lost” my keys in bulk food bins while “sampling” at a larger grocery chain) I do it happily. (I love that small shop feel where they know what I buy each week and tell me what they are out of before I have even made it to the isle.) So, today when I stopped by the Co-Op on my way into work I was so disheartened to find my pears were from Patagonia. Do I want to travel to Patagonia? Yes. And when I am there I will pick pears right off the tree and eat them all juicy faced. But the pear without the passport stamp seems unnecessary.