Q IS FOR QUAINT

            

Part of today I spent in quaintness. Not quite the usual description of someone's day, is it? ::smile:: Quaint has several different meanings, but the specific one I am referring to is old-fashioned or of a bygone time.

The day began with a phone call to my favorite Chicago hotel to book the reservations for a summer trip there. I had spent hours online the previous day scouring the web for other Chicago hotels, thinking perhaps a different one might be fun to try. I am a bit of a hotel snob, so my nose crinkled when I would come across some that did not blend well with one of the few snobby traits I possess. By day's end, I asked myself why I would even want to stay in a different hotel. Some are so architecturally contemporary (and decorated even more obscenely contemporary) that my eyes practically bleed looking at them. No, I wanted the same quaint "boutique" hotel we had stayed in during our last trip to the Windy City. I could live in the lobby with its antique furniture and fireplaces. There is the old-fashioned catering to the guests that I do not always find in other hotels, too. The staff does not even want you to fill your ice buckets. They do it for you! The suites are gorgeous, spacious, and filled with antique reproductions. We will be attending the King Tut exhibit while there. Ah, my favorite ancient culture. I will be in my glory and definitely caught up in the past.

 

I then left here to pick up my mother for a quick run to the hospital, so she could have some blood work done. Nothing quaint about that! ::grin:: We left there and headed for one of our favorite lunchtime haunts. It is a bar/restaurant. It is in a strip mall-like place. One that was around when I was very young...and probably before I was born. Renovations have taken place over the years, so the exterior is a pretty stone on all the stores and restaurants. While eating there for the umpteenth time, I still found myself looking at the antiques hanging on the walls. The low lighting, leather booths, regular tables, and bar are all reminiscent of past times. It has that quaint, comfortable feel to it.

 

To satisfy a request my daughter had made some days ago for cinnamon sugar bars, I stopped at the bakery located in the strip. The bakery is set back from the other places, but still connected. In the center is a small garden that is maybe 20 feet by 20 feet or so. Benches are strategically placed for those who want to relax for a few minutes and take in the prettiness of this little garden. I literally came to a halt thinking back to when I was a young girl. There used to be a high wrought iron fence enclosing that space. Inside was a REAL peacock! We would stand for eons watching the peacock strut through his enclosure. Our excitement was overwhelming when we were lucky enough to see him spread his tail feathers. ::sigh:: There is no way that peacock would survive today. Someone would surely pelt it with rocks or use it for target practice. A sad commentary on society, but the truth.

 

The final stop before returning Mom to her home was at the small grocery store there in that stretch. I had not been in there for a good while, and changes had been made. The store was updated, yet managed to not only keep its quaint charm, but actually enhanced it. It tickled me to follow a miniature train circling the store just below the ceiling. Perched high atop shelving and freezers were antiques. There were many old tins that once held crackers, potato chips, coffee. Larger items were antique coffee grinders, and anything else even remotely related to old-time grocery stores. It felt so warm and cozy in there. The shelves are stocked with the new and popular food items, but hard-to-find old brands are still carried. It was an enjoyable trip to that grocery store. Plus, they had some perfect veal liver, which is why I wanted to stop there. Yes, I love liver. Checking out is a breeze with the employees scurrying to make sure you do not have to wait at a register. The carts are designed so the front end slips over the conveyor belt, and the cashier removes the items from the cart. Friendliness was evident. The gal who bagged our groceries has Down's Syndrome, and she told of losing her grandmother and how her heart still hurt from the loss. The store treats customers like family. And that is very quaint and unusual for a grocery store.

 

Mom and I chatted about the day's quaintness during the short ride back to her house. She agreed that we got a little slice of the way life used to be. I love seeing that not everything is modernized to the point of sterility and vacuousness.

 

I adore cold weather, but not icy people or establishments.

 

"Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,

And sweet thyme true,

Primrose, first born child of Ver,

Merry Spring-time's harbinger." ~Francis Beaumont