the little store

in times of the mega store and the super store, it is rare to find a neighborhood grocery that can still compete and prosper.

the little store in our neighborhood has been in business for about 60 years and seems to be doing just that.
it is family owned and the father and son have their pictures hanging on the wall closest to the cash register.  they can be seen every day in their aprons stocking shelves, greeting customers, and running in and out of the back room taking care of business.

one of the things i find so charming are the hand printed signs that go into the window each week to announce the specials. the window also serves as a bulletin board for people to post pictures of their lost dogs, or the house they have for sale, taping them to the inside of the window near the door to the entrance.

meats are hand cut by the butcher. if you have a special request, there is a bell to ring for his attention. people claim that the meats are the best in town, and often travel back to the store even after moving to a larger, more upscale subdivision.
the produce selection is small, but in season, there is an abundance of local tomatoes (or peaches, squash, or corn) piled high in a cardboard box. they never last long.

as you fill your cart or carry your basket up and down the 7 or 8 short aisles, you realize that everything has a price tag, every can, every box, every bottle. no mysterious bar code that can only be revealed at the checkout.
checkout is another old fashioned experience. there is a wooden guide on the floor, the width of the cart wheels, that you roll up to, and as the cart is emptied, the cart rolls under the counter.  no belts, no scanners. everything is rung up by hand.
the same young girl always seems to be there, day or night.   if more than 2 customers are in line, she rings a buzzer and almost instantly someone comes to open the second register.
young men bag your purchases and offer to carry your groceries to your car....no tipping allowed.

we are so spoiled by the convenience of this neighborhood gem, that we sometimes take for granted it will always be there. 
i hope that it will be.

time for a cookout