You better shop around

It’s a stunningly beautiful summer day here in the Maritimes, but I’ve seen it most from the passenger seat of a rental car which, in fact, is a rental SUV, trolling through suburban furniture stores. Pretty far from idyllic, in my book, although I know folks who would have jumped at the suggestion that this undertaking needed undertaking.

The trees are now of course in full, dark green leaf, casting broad canopies on side streets. Out where we were in commercial hell, the land has been stripped pretty raw either for the sake of industry (brewery as well as furniture commerce) or perhaps during Juan. Now the spaces are fairly treeless but slabs of rock show along many parking lots. (And I have seen so many parking lots through the day).

Last night, it was overwhelmingly hot and stuffy in my apartment and so we walked over to the house fairly late, getting a taste of the middle-of-the-night (not the wee-hours-of-the-morning) crowd in the neighborhood, as well as some air. The maple trees have all dropped huge loads of their seedlings (“helicopters” in my childhood); the lilacs have bloomed and gone; the legs of this year’s tulips still stand around, yellowing, in some gardens.

My list of what needs getting has, indeed, gotten shorter for the day’s work, but oh for a shopper who could feel a sense of satisfaction or conquest, rather than my own sense of drudgery and impatience with a squandered summer day.

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