I took my usual early morning stroll down Rt. 2A to the Acton Coffee House for a cuppa iced Hazelnut, it was quite warm despite the lovely breeze, and I engaged in the friendly chit chat that I’ve come to love and appreciate over the past five odd years frequenting this often frequented establishment. Speaking with some familiars I learned that my treasured Coffee House was planning to move to West Acton, a location beyond my ability to walk. But businesses must do what is in their best interests and not privy to the intricacies of the lease agreement, that I’m sure are fairly steep, the owners must have made some difficult choices. So all we could do, after considerable commiseration is to wish them well and ponder our own futures without the place we all could go where everyone knew our names.
Once done mourning, I channeled my inner Bilbo Baggins and decided to go on an adventure. I needed chickpeas, chickpea flour, and cashew nuts for Pakoras. I knew that there was an Indian Grocery store that had recently opened a relatively short distance up Rt. 2A so I resolved to walk up the hiway until I discovered it, googling it first before I departed. My ACH friends Fran and Peter both offered to drive me but I wished to take the air and so declined their kind offers.
The motorists who traverse Rt. 2A have yet to learn the finer points of sharing the road with pedestrians so I was forced to cross the road several times to follow the sidewalks, poor city planning in my humble estimation and another huge disappointment to discover that Acton. MA has yet to install Sidewalks along the full length of Great Road.
Finally reaching my destination I was delighted to find all that I needed and then some. Never grocery shop on an empty stomach. If I’d heeded my own admonition I wouldn’t have found myself walking home the 2.5 mile return route laden with 4 lbs. flour, 4 lbs. dry chickpeas, 1.2 lbs. cashew nuts, my obligatory shoulder pouch, and my backpack containing my laptop. But I’m a great walker and so I made good time, even though I needed to frequently stop to shift my heavy load. Moving the nine lbs plus grocery bag from hand held, to over my shoulder, to slung around my neck I ultimately reached my condo tired but unbowed. I was a nasty ball of sweat and my get away sticks were bitterly complaining, especially walking up the seemingly endless flights of stairs to my third floor apartment. Nala greeted me warmly before yawning a sleepy indication that for her it was nap time yet again. Stripping down to my altogethers and grabbing my iced tea I sat down at my keyboard to document my recent tragedy and adventure looking forward to some tasty pakoras and Lemon Lavender Truffle Bites for diner while attempting to console myself of the loss suffered this day.