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| My darling red hearts from Essence on Main in Clarkston |
I awoke this frozen, bright blue morning with the delightful thought of tagging along with a friend to Clarkston. The unique charm and flavor of a local village appealed to me, especially in good company and when I’m hungry.
After
Mary Ellen delivered her little Mal-Shi into the groomer’s loving arms, she parked
on Clarkston’s Main Street. I observed the free parking, one benefit of dining
and shopping in a small town.
I mention this in remembrance
of the $45 parking ticket I lately paid for overlooking a small sign at the
corner of Canfield and Cass Avenues in Detroit.
The price was
worth the reunion with my California daughter and our laughs with other canine
lovers in the gated Dog Park. I seldom have the opportunity to watch my grand-dog
Lily play with all kinds of breeds and sizes of city pets.
Yet, be it local
or out of state, I’ve found small town merchants and wait staff kinder than those
in cities. Perhaps slower foot traffic allows for that.
In high
anticipation, Mary Ellen and I passed a bakery and clothing shop. We paused
before a window with a beautiful display of white, life-sized deer with little
red hearts dangling from their antlers.
“They have some
very nice items in this store,” she said.
I stood resolute
before those cascading red hearts. Lord knows I didn’t need anything new for my
home. I’d find something useful inside to support this local business.
My fellow admirer
of darling, dangling, original ideas looked me in the eye. “We have two hours
while Abbey’s at the groomer. Would you like to drop in after breakfast?”
"Sure.”
We walked next
door to the Old Village Café. The waitress smiled and waved to us. “Sit
anywhere you like.”
“I remember her
from lunch here two summers ago,” I said.
We ordered Eggs
Benedict and a cup of hot tea. I splurged with a side of hash browns which I
shared with my friend.
Two mothers who’ve
lost an adult child, Mary Ellen most recently, we acknowledged the overwhelming
fatigue that follows the crisis of death and a memorial service.
“Let me know what
I can do to help you recover,” I said.
“You’re helping
now.”
“What? This is
like a mini vacation.”
We left the café
and browsed every nook and cranny within the shop where the red hearts hung
from the deer’s antlers. I found my favorite tea blend, Paris, by Harney &
Sons. And Moosejaw chocolates and
Germack nuts.
Oh yes, I fought
the nudge to pluck up a string of those frivolous red hearts until I saw Mary
Ellen, one of the most practical persons on the planet, with a strand in her
hand.
As she drove us northeast
toward home, I asked, “What’s the name of that charming shop?”
“Essence on Main.”
Lord willing,
we’ll return to the place where we found our token of companionship. For the
shop sells delicious ginger molasses and chocolate chip shortbread cookies.
