Lisa Carnley is managing editor of the Lampasas Dispatch Record. I do not like going to the grocery store, and anyone who looks inside my refrigerator probably would attest to that.

Going to the store once a week is just one time too many, as far as I’m concerned.

In my previous home, I had a huge refrigerator. You could open the doors and practically climb inside. When I talked to myself (as I often do), I could hear my voice echo inside the cavernous regions. It looked like the black hole.

That was just too much refrigerator for one person. How much space does one need to store several water bottles, a pint-sized container of milk and some grapes?

When I sold that house and purchased another, I also sold the refrigerator.

My “new” home came with a refrigerator -- apartment-size -- and it’s just perfect for my modest needs.

The good thing about my small refrigerator is that I can clean the top of it without standing on a stepstool, and at 5 feet 1 inch tall, that’s quite an accomplishment. That gives you an idea of the fridge’s small stature; it’s vertically challenged, just like me.

But the best thing about it is when I open the fridge, my few bottles of water, my bowl of grapes and carton of milk crowd the small shelves, giving the illusion of a full icebox, thereby stopping me from having to go back to the grocery store more than once every two weeks or so.

I refill my water bottles in the sink over and over, and I don’t drink much milk. I do replenish grapes pretty often (a lot of times those serve as my supper).

I’m sure glad I don’t have to go shopping as often as people with families do. Groceries just keep getting more and more expensive, and for someone who doesn’t like to cook (yes, I’m in that category), convenience foods are awfully expensive.

It can cost as much for a box of cereal as a dinner of hamburger, french fries and a drink at the fastfood restaurant. And a container of frozen yogurt is equivalent to the cost of buying casserole ingredients. So, while I’m not getting by with cheaper prices, I do much better because I don’t have to shop quite as often.

I see these harried mothers and fathers pushing kids around the store in shopping carts, comparing prices, using coupons and trying to get the best value they can for their money. And I can remember when I was one of them.

My two growing boys and their constant parade of friends and teammates at our house consumed enough food to feed a small army.

At times, most of the boys’ high school soccer team came over. They all crowded into one tiny bedroom to watch a sports program or a video on a 19-inch television set while proceeding to mow down anything edible in their paths.

I didn’t mind having everyone over because I knew where my kids were and who they were with. And they didn’t leave too much of a mess behind, although I was never sure where the wrappers, cans and empty boxes went.

It seemed the cookies, potato chips, sodas and granola bars just vanished from the refrigerator and cupboards at the same time the boys left the house.

Now it is quiet. The boys are grown and gone. I don’t have anyone else to shop for but me.

I must be getting nostalgic because I suddenly have a craving for potato chips and cookies. Guess I’d better head to the store. I’m really getting kind of tired of grapes anyway.