Out & About (Thoughtful Musings in Place)
It's true, I haven't posted here since Christmas. The world is too much with us, I suppose, but really, sometimes there are too many things to do. And winter can be heavy on the energy level. This thing remains afloat, I so declare.
Sometimes I write what I call Out & About. Out & About simply refers to going somewhere and noting things. Absorbing, then I write. Mental tangents and random thoughts occur. Writing becomes a matter of seeing what comes next.
As I see it, Point A and Point B sit on a line, but between them exists any number of points. Mindfulness is being there with the neural firings. Writing itself is on another A-B, or X-Y, axis, one that can intersect the first one. Being there to be there.
The other day, Beth finished a real estate appraisal so we went for coffee. Ignoring the ubiquitous Starbuck's option, we headed to the Nashoba Brook Bakery in West Concord where we go often.
The temperature—February 1—was 63, with soft bright sunshine. It felt like spring. I wore shorts and a light shirt. Much as the temperature pleases me, such unseasonable weather feels disquieting. As it happens, a heavy wet snow fell a few days later.
West Concord sits on the far side of Route 2 from literary and historic Concord. Smaller houses, and more working class. The bustling village near the train station, however, has almost urban energy.
We carried two bags of books into the bakery. The bakery provides bookshelves that people can take from and replenish. We took two books, one a mystery, the other a book about a trade of spies between the US and Russia. I got coffee, Beth a cup of Earl Grey. We each had a cookie. Nashoba Brook rushed by, on its way to join the Assabet River not far away. Last summer the Nashoba had been little more than a puddle, albeit one with little fish facing the withered current.
Half a mile away from this quaint village of artsy shops and eateries is a Massachusetts state correctional facility, smack at the busy Route 2 rotary. A picturesque dairy farm sits on sloping ground across from the prison. It too is part of the correctional facility.
Certain times, you see the women and kids come to visit dad, or brother, or son, almost within sight of where people are checking out galleries and eateries.
We took an overland route from West Concord, I..e. not Route 2. We headed to Lexington for new shoes for me. This brought us first to Bedford, Land of the Rising McMansion. Thru out this community on the rise, one sees capes and ranches torn down and replaced by outsized cookie cutter houses that sell for a million or more. Right now, the market is stagnant, but the process goes on.
Beth wanted some storage boxes that she'd seen at Home Goods so there we went. The store offers stuff as stuff: things, items, stuff. An employee told me that Home Goods doesn't even take inventory. Transitory lots of goods appear, find a place on the floor, then go away. It's not that everything is junk or without worth, it's that the passing of such product seems so unmarked.
We then stopped in the pet store for a fake plant to put in our betta's bowl. Beth talked with the owner. I looked at parakeets.
Next we pulled into the car wash to remove a crust of snow melt. First the mopping by humans then into the tunnel. Water sprayed and coloured soap splattered onto the car. We both whooped. The final intensity of air blown fiercely, then off we went to Lexington.
Michaelson's has been a Lexington mainstay for at least two generations. A cramped little store but always busy. The owner probably fit me for shoes sixty years ago. He's still a busy part of the business. As a child, I used to confuse or conflate him with his brother: both bald, with glasses and dark suits. The brother left the business years ago.
Lexington has changed over ghe years, becoming almost urban in nature, with more than a nod towards swank. The shoe store and the pharmacy next door have been around for ages. Everything else in the busy center seems like a paean to transience. Little shoppes of wistful nothing.
No bookstores in town. The movie theatre remains, with what used to be the balcony now duplexed into a separate showcase. The Five & Ten is gone, the stamp collecting store is gone, the music store is gone, the hobby store is gone, the men's wear store, where I'd be brought for school clothes every fall, is gone. Now real estate offices and banks abound in Lexington's busy centre, not to mention eateries. Bring the kids.
We next traveled to Beth's appraisal office in Woburn where she picked up her check. Hearty people carved Woburn out of ledge, you see Earth's exposed structural element thru out the town. I love all the ledge. The house I grew up in sat on ledge, with exposed rock that we kids could climb on next to the house.
Next we went to Best Buy in Burlington for headphones. We caught I-95 heading south, the highway clogging up with early rush from work.
Best Buy is a former citadel that thinks it's a current citadel. It seems busy but so many options exist outside the big store. I've owned computers for thirty years but now I feel out of date.
I have either lacked funds for or interest in the evolving market of new devices. I was slow to transition to cds, have yet to acquire Blu-Ray. I am not eager for virtual reality. I don't play video games. What's wrong with me? I can see a use for a pad, and I guess I can see one for a smartwatch, but they don't seem like necessities. Not at the level of interest that I see, at least.
Beth wanted to see if our phone service could be improved price-wise. Beth has a smart Blackberry, Erin and I have not so smart flip phones. I don't want to text but a smart phone's camera and quick research capability are nice features. I couldn't follow what the Best Buy consultant said but even staying with stupid phones we couldn't improve our phone bill. I don't know how people afford their fancy ones.
As the afternoon passed the sky clouded over, wind picked up, the temperature dropped. I was feeling cold, even inside Best Buy, and both of us hungry. A big batch of Erin's curry awaited us at home.