Yesterday I took a walk into town. It was Sunday, so everyone was either at church or French's, the diner. The only other place that was open was the coffee/bike repair shop, and I was the only person inside. They have free wifi, and are thus my new second home (and the reason there have been any updates to this blog at all). But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about C.J. Richardson's, the love of my life.
Did they have shower rods? You bet. What about the little nails I need? Those, too. Oh, but there's so much more.
Need a bicycle? Look no further. Washing machine? Check. Saucepan? Aisle 3. The best part is, despite the sheer variety of product, it's not a huge store. This is no ACE, no Lowes. You walk inside and it feels like you've been there your entire life. But thats not even the best part.
I was standing at the register while the gentleman who had helped me was writing up my receipt and I happened to glance above me.
"Is that a...mandolin?" I asked.
My hardware store friend smiled, and gestured towards the front windows, where there was a display of banjos. How had I missed those?? "Yup. We've been open since nineteen-three and have always sold musical instruments."
Which is pretty much the greatest thing I've ever heard.
God help me if they ever hang any ukuleles over the register. I'll be a goner.