October 25, 2023
The story of this family and
the town that we have claimed as our own, this town we moved to in 1989, is to
a large extent the story of my beloved’s relationship with its eateries.
Or more specifically, those
places in town that serve breakfast—or the anytime snack of French fries with
gravy. My husband has become quite fond of going out for breakfast, or for
fries and gravy. It really is one of his favorite things to do now that he’s
retired.
When we first arrived here
after living all but our first year of marriage out in rural environs, we
thought that our lifestyle was about to change. We envisioned weekly trips down
to the bakery, weekend strolls along the “main drag” – in those days this town’s
down-town business district was relegated for the most part to a section of the
main street that was equivalent of two blocks long. We also had a “plaza’ at
the north end of town that featured a restaurant, the name of which I forget,
and a second grocery store, in addition to the IGA that was located smack in
the middle of downtown.
That change in our lifestyle
never truly materialized, though. It turned out that propinquity had not been
the missing ingredient to our previous lives lived in near isolation. It took
us a couple of years more to decide that we were, at the heart of it all, natural
hermits. We’d drive to work and back each day—a round trip of some distance—and
then once home, we wanted to remain so until it was time to head to work again.
Where we had first settled in
this town was in a older neighborhood just to the north of our downtown core. Then
we had a house fire and ended up renting a house on the south side of the town,
a block from the Catholic church. We
later bought that house and it’s where we have lived ever since.
From here, if one drives north
about a half a mile, the road will curve on a downward slope for a total of
about a thirty-to-forty-foot drop in elevation, and then curves to the right.
And as you make that curve, bam, the entire business section of downtown is
laid out in front of you on both sides of the main street. Yes, the business
district is in the valley, the lowest part of town. Diagonal parking is allowed
so one can pick a spot close to one’s destination, although there is also a
parking lot located behind the businesses on the west side of the street.
Today our little town is not
so little anymore and quite a bit different from our early days here.
The town has expanded to the
north, beyond that plaza that now holds a couple of take-out restaurants, an
Ontario government public office, and a hardware/tire store. The new grocery that
had been built in that new plaza has since been relocated across the street in
a new, new specially constructed site and is about twice the size it
used to be. And beyond those businesses, new housing has been constructed, as
well as a couple of small sized “strip malls” each containing fast food
restaurants.
To the south west, there has
been new home construction as well, along with four—count ‘em, four—new roundabouts
and a very large commercial area featuring take out restaurants, eat in
restaurants, the previously located in downtown but now new and improved and
bigger hardware store—and a store that sells cannabis products.
Change appears to be a
constant now here in our not-so-small town. If we only stay home and only sit
out on our front porch, we can convince ourselves that this is still our same small
town. Well, except for the fact that where the Catholic school used to be in
the next block from our house is now a residence for sensory-deprived folk.
But we don’t stay home. David
will often head off on his scooter. He may go to the newest grocery store in
town, located about a half mile to the east. In that general area, too, is the
new “Health Hub”, a wonderful new building that houses our doctor’s office, as
well as the community lab and all sorts of different medical-related offices.
That was a good change,
meaning our doctor’s office was now closer. But some change is hard to take.
A few weeks ago, my beloved
made his way to the one take-out place in the middle of our downtown for his
regular infusion of fries and gravy, only to learn that was the last week the
business was going to be in operation.
And then the worst happened,
something was only noticed yesterday, and friends, it was a hard one for him.
He had a medical appointment with
a doctor who is not in the new health hub but is located in an older building situated
in the valley which holds our business section. It was Tuesday, and his appointment
was at 10:00am. He planned to head for breakfast right afterwards.
I was in the living room when
he returned. I heard him making noise in the kitchen, so I went out to see how
his appointment had gone. He was
reaching into the cupboard and brought out a small frying pan, which he set on
the stove. I asked him what he was doing, and he informed me, with visible
sadness, that he was going to fry himself some eggs because, apparently, there was
nowhere anymore to buy breakfast at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday.
I asked him why he thought
that was? It seemed unfathomable to me. And my husband said something that was
so profound, it reminded me that he really did know how to think and think
well.
He said, and I quote, “because
this is a yuppy town, now. It’s not a farm town anymore.”
That truly does feel like the definitive
statement on the differences between our town, then and now. His statement says
so much more than just the lack of an early week breakfast place.
I really couldn’t have said it
better myself.
Love,
Morgan
https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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