Musings on the Old Country Store

Have you ever purchased a penny candy from a jar or been offered a sample sliver of delicious cheddar cheese from a huge round under a glass dome?  Have you purchased a loaf of homemade bread fresh from the oven, a yard of pretty red ribbon and a pound of nails all from the same counter? If you have, you were likely in an old-fashioned country or general store, the kind that carries pretty much anything anyone might ever want to buy.

There are several old stores like that that I enjoyed visiting as a child (and still do when given the opportunity). One of my favorites is in Moultonboro NH. It has the distinction of being one of the oldest country stores in the US still in operation. It was established in the late 1700’s!  I pass by this fascinating store every time I travel to or from my family’s summer place and I always wish I had time to stop. It seems I am always in a hurry to get somewhere or do something. Part of my transition promise to myself is to take time more often to enjoy the ride more than the destination.

Here is how Hannah Applegate describes the store owned by her childhood friend Jane’s parents in my novel “After the Storm”.

“Sometimes Jane, Lydia and I stopped at her parents’ general store on our way home from school to visit or to pick up something my aunt needed. Jane’s mother always welcomed Lydia and me with a big smile and an offer of a sweet from one of the many jars on the counter (my favorite part of the store). She was very round and jolly, always talking and laughing with the customers. I don’t think I ever saw her angry with anyone in all the years I knew her. 

I did not see much of Jane’s father. He was in charge of keeping the books and bringing in new stock. Once in a while, he appeared when I was there with an armload of shovels or a few bolts of new calicos. He also spent one or two days each week away from the store with a large “Tinker’s” wagon. He would go from farm to farm in the outlying areas to sell his wares to folks who rarely came into town. He would collect from them fresh butter and milk, apples, furs and wool in trade. When I saw him at the store, he always had an affectionate word for Jane, a warm greeting for me, and a smile for his wife but otherwise was quite reserved.

I marveled at the variety and abundance of wonderful things sold in the store. They had everything from giant pickles in a barrel to pitchforks and kerosene lamps, not to mention staples such as potatoes and baking flour, eggs and fresh vegetables in season. Huge bags of grain were sold for livestock, along with parasols and dress gloves of fine leather or lace. If you brought in your own jars or bottles, you could get honey or maple syrup measured out for you. It was almost more than a mind could take in.

Behind the counter was a shelf filled with bolts of fancy dress fabrics, including silks, satin and the more common muslins and calicos along with threads and notions of every kind and color imaginable! This shelf fascinated me and I wished I could go behind the counter to get a closer look. There was also a giant wheel of the most delicious cheddar cheese next to the register, and you could ask to have a tiny piece cut off for a taste or a wedge wrapped in paper to take home.

Aunt Rebecca ran a tab at the general store that she would pay off at the end of each month with her hard-earned money. Often she bartered fresh eggs or her own homemade jams or pies for part of what she purchased that month.  Other folks in town did the same, bringing in fresh vegetables, bushel baskets of apples, jars of maple syrup from their own trees That’s how there were always fresh goods at the store. It was an arrangement that worked well for everybody.

In summer, folks gathered on the wide veranda in front of the store to rest and gossip in the shade when they had the time. There was a swinging bench at one end of the veranda and several rocking chairs to the right of the entry into the store. Fresh lemonade or sarsaparilla with a chunk of ice was a welcome treat on a hot day! In winter, men gathered around the big pot-bellied stove that stood in the center of the large main room, and smoked their pipes or cigars and talked. The store was warm and welcoming and had a wonderful smell of pipe tobacco, spices, and herbs, fresh baked bread and donuts. It seemed to me that this store was the very heart of the village.  Except for my aunt’s house, the general store was my favorite place to be as I grew up!"

What was your favorite place to be when you were growing up? What do you wish you had more time to savor before you have to move on to the "next thing"? What do you need to make more space for in your life? I would love to hear your thoughts and insights.

Cary
www.somethingsewfine.com
somethingsewfine@comcast.net