05 September 2016

Shards of the past sadly fading into only memory

It is sad when "progress" drives out or destroys old institutions that are near landmarks. When my father and mother broke up, I spent the school year with her, and then holidays and most of the summer with my father in England. 

They didn't like to meet face-to-face for the transfer, so oddly, it was decided that Nicholasville, Kentucky was the point.

 Every summer I journeyed to Nicholasville.  A very small town though little evidence of that remains today.

One of the stops along the way that mum always made was to get a new set of dishes or such from Carpenters Dish Bar.
 It was a "wonderland" of trinkets, figurines (inside and out). You would roam up and down the magical aisles and find something you just couldn't live without. Well, US 27 is now doing a redevelopment to align entrances in and out of Nicholasville. Not sure what they are aligning, lol, because it was all changed when I was through there two years ago. 

We bought the Escalade online and went to pick it up--very hauntingly enough-- the car dealer was on the the very site of the Old Windmill Restaurant and Drive-in that I used as the setting in my novel Riding the Thunder. 
The restaurant was long gone. Only a sign left to note it once stood there. The drive-in could be spotted by the light polls that still stood nearly consumed by the massive overgrowth of neglect. Nature has a way of claiming what we don't hold onto.

I was thrilled because Candy got to ride along with us. She smiled at my sadness over the forlorn Windmill sign. At least, she got to stop at Carpenters Dish Barn on the way back. Much of the childhood magic was gone, naturally. It had the feel of a large Garden Ridge (which has also gone the way of things). But still she did get to visit there
This time of year, I get "homesick" for a spot that was never really a home. I was only passing through for a week here, or a week there in the spring and fall. Yet, something about the places and businesses linger in my mind, special in a way that defies description or explanation. I am not sure why I cry over losing something that was only a very minor part of my life. I just do.

With the passing of Carpenter's Dish Barn...another tangible place that witnesses my yearly pilgrimage is now gone. I was glad, though, Candy did get to visit it.

A silent portal (with a ticking clock) witness to the past that was once Kentucky

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