Melanie and I headed to Quincy today to take care of Mother's car. It was one of those factory recall things. While there, we did errands as the car was being fixed. When finished, we headed home as quickly as we could.
I do not know what it is about going to town. I may take some good, peaceful, calm, serene country energy with me. After a little while, my energy deflates like someone had stuck a few pin holes in a balloon. Whoooosssshhh.... Leaks are sometimes slow, sometimes fast. Take me home.
The car dealership was a nice place and they did a wonderful job taking care of us and the car. For that, I am grateful. But I experienced sensory overload while there. From where I sat, I couldn't see anything living, other than Humans hurriedly moving about and 1 defoliated Poinsettia by the door.
The television was on with no one watching it. I asked kindly if I could turn it off. I do this wherever I go if there is a television present with no one watching it in a public room. Staff were on phones engaged in at least 3 different conversations, which were loud enough that I could have participated. The sounds of their voices ricocheted off the hardened walls, windows, ceilings, floors. Busy music was playing through the speakers in an adjoining area.
An older woman came in with 2 Chihuahuas in sweaters. Everyone seemed to relax a bit and play with the dogs. I suggested that such critters would be a wonderful addition to car waiting rooms. An employee, who was playing with the dogs, laughed and said that lounge dogs would be a great idea for the waiting room.
We moved about in the city which is relatively new to us. Signs of stores blared out wanting attention: "Pick me!" Each sign was poised to be brighter and more attention grabbing than the next. No attempt had been made to blend them together for a soothing city experience.
We went to an office supply store. When looking for specific products, I walked the aisles looking for someone, anyone who could help us. You get the picture. Only one person was there who would be able to wait on us, except he really didn't want to. You could see it in his eyes. When leaving, the clerk asked: "Did you find everything?" It would take far too long for me to answer her question. Her time would not allow for it. Plus, I am not sure she would understand.
Traffic wasn't bad, but people were in a hurry. The 4 lanes were filled with people running about and surely behind schedule. I am sure that some were headed to jobs and places they really did not want to be.
We knew where we wanted to eat. We had to park a block away and look for just the right opportunity to dash across the street as the traffic madly rushed north. The coffee shop boutique was lovely, but visual stimuli and differing scents abounded. The waitress was not quite sure what "Fair Trade" tea might be.
On our way home, we passed through small communities with boarded up store-fronts. Everyone seems to want to go to a bigger town or city. Small Mom and Pop stores which are the lifeblood of communities cannot compete.
I have concluded that cities and towns are over-rated. Yes, they have their purposes and I do need to go there once in a while. But I love the quiet of the country, the frogs singing their spring songs, birds sporting their spring plumage, newborn calves magically appearing, and the quiet loving support of family and friends. Speaking of...
Richard knew we would be tired. He had homemade soup waiting for us. I didn't even do the dishes. UPS arrived. Dear Sarah Cummins and her family way up in Minnesota had sent us a package of summer sausage, dried venison, circle sausage, deer sticks made by her Uncle Greg.
I just don't seem to find that kind of energy on my trips to town. Town and cities are over-rated. They simply cannot even approach what we have right here.