When in Rome…


It was an anticipated Pacific West Coast day with what they call liquid sunshine.

Ruby made eyes at a cheerful lemon yellow Datsun parked out front.

We slipped into a parking spot out front of the hundred year old corner store and darted between raindrops to the entrance.

A gentleman held the door open for me and I entered the old store that was pedaling new ideas.

I had seen an article in the Mount Baker Experience magazine and I was giddy and intrigued.

Read… Road trip… Rome… Roam.

Had I been passing through town (was this even a town?) I would have had the pleasure of meeting and eating with the locals.

I wandered the isles smelling herbal balms and sprays made by hand

The chicken feed by the door was locally owned Scratch and Peck feeds

There was beer and ciders from the area with fanciful labels conjuring images of summer antics though the threat of frost had still not ended.

I discovered various kombucha flavors and even Jun (a fermented green tea and honey beverage)

I bought a swing top bottle brewed in Oregon with the delightful sounding ingredients of pear and fennel.

Oh Oregon! Wait for me won’t you?

I talked eggs with the lady behind the counter.

I don’t know the chickens, when I buy eggs at the market. Are they happy?

Allen! I miss you so.

I hear good things about the owners.

Locals trying to keep it local.

I am thrilled with the difference they are making.

There are still the usual corner store items and oft forgotten camp out necessities, but it is the specialties I came for.

That and the community

The evolution might just bring them back to something similar to their earlier beginning.

I wonder what changes the next hundred years will have in store for this quaint little store.

I shall pass this way again I am sure.

I am still reveling in the small town swoon.

On to the next adventure.

Maybe I will see you soon.


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