Susan McCorkindale

The movers come tomorrow. I’m excited and a little sad that I won’t get to speed walk through Old Town Warrenton every morning. I’m going miss it.

I’m going to miss wondering where the “Open” and “Shut” signs went that Pablo used to have on the doors of Great Harvest every day. The “Shut” sign always cracked me up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I’m going to miss how pretty the hanging plants look along Main Street.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whenever I walk, I pretend I’ve never been here before, which probably accounts for how startled I am when people wave to me. Joe Martin was getting into his car one morning and he waved and I was like, whoa, that guy knows me? Earth to Susan! Stop with the Jedi mind tricks. But it’s fun to pretend I’ve never been here because it allows me to see things in my pretty town I hadn’t noticed previously. Like how gorgeous the windows are in Designs By Teresa,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and how commanding and elegant the court house is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I reach this spot, I cross and practically run to see what’s in the windows at Shelf Life.

I’m safest at Shelf Life at 6:30am, when I can’t go in and go broke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think I need this for my new place. Not that I bake or do more than pour wine in my kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of course I don’t only walk along Main Street. I like to cut up and down the side streets, too. Great soups here…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Neat treasures here…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And lots of hats here. I gotta stop in here one day during business hours. I could totally embrace my hattitude!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I walk past the Fauquier Times office and wave. I know. No one’s there yet. But still. Hmm. You think maybe my therapist should open an office on Culpeper Street? Then I could walk there, too, sit on her stoop and be her first appointment of the day, every day.

 

Oh wait, that won’t work. She’s going to have to open an office near Marshall’s cause that’s closer to my new place. A Marshall’s within walking distance. Dear God, that’s as bad as living within walking distance of DeJaVu. And Shelf Life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the super cool Black Bear Mercantile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe I should simply get a treadmill and speed walk in the safety of my new home. Then I could double my pretending. I could pretend I’m walking through Old Town while pretending to be on vacation and we can all go on pretending that my therapist doesn’t need to move near Marshall’s. You know, I’m going to miss my early morning walks on Main Street almost as much as I miss what was left of my mind.