After weeks, okay months, of painting at our new fixer upper, there was paint lingering in the crevices of my fingers and paint on the bottom of several pairs of shoes. I felt my relationship with blue tape had evolved to a new and perhaps disturbing place. MyUPSGuy was talking about the merging of paint “wet into wet” to the point where I was wondering if the fumes had gotten to him… it was definitely time for a break.
As luck had it, we had an errand to run east of Hartford and so we headed that way, and stopped at the Quaker Diner in West Hartford, CT, where we chose a spot at the end of the bar and considered less complicated things like what to have for breakfast. Marilyn waited on us… apparently she has worked at the Diner for 17 years.
The Quaker Diner is quintessentially “Americana.” It has the old bar stools that are attached to the floor with their posts in a mint green color that harken to an earlier era. The Diner boasts the big machine that makes milk shakes (in the same mint green). There is a curved metal ceiling, booth seating and a juke box that make you think of what it must have been like to grow up in an earlier day.
“There is something about a diner like this one,” I said to MyUPSGuy, “Just something about it. It screams of good things. Everyone here is living their life, pleased to have their omelet for breakfast, about to start the day… with a cup of joe, that kind of thing.”
“It’s about a simpler time,” replied my husband.
Which somehow made me want to cry.
Because I miss those simpler, summer days, growing up in New Jersey with fall approaching and the walk to the school bus. I miss trick or treating in your own neighborhood because it was still relatively safe to do so. It was a different time… our TV (we had only one) was a small box with maybe a 12” screen. Mobile technology was still largely far off, and the world just didn’t seem as fast, intense or complicated.
I miss that sometimes. These days? Often.
Maybe now, with buying this more rural piece of property and downsizing to the little house, it’s an attempt to “de-complicate” … a decision to use less and encumber less, even if just for a while. I’m at a point in my life where I just want to enjoy the omelet… and coffee in a ridiculously thick porcelain mug, and be free of clutter for a moment of my life.