I am officially in love with Brookings.
Here are the delectable details:
Small town feel
Farmers
Adorable downtown
College vibe without the clubbing options
Big stores available (Lowes, Walmart, Joann’s, etc.), but these stores are off the freeway rather than a town feature. You have to drive to them.
Perfect selection of needed stores downtown (coffee shops, restaurants, hobby shops, bike shop, dance studio, etc.
Water, water everywhere
Parks and places to play
People are Midwest nice
Farmers
No loiterers in town, yet no signs prohibiting such
Minimal kids on screens
Kids climbing trees
Farmers
Farms
An hour from a big city where you can find ANYTHING you want
Last night we left the kids in bed and visited an Irish dive pub where happy hour was from 3am-midnight, and what that meant was that even fancy drinks cost pocket change. Earlier in the day, I had seen the bartender outside the coffee shop applying for a job. “I have a baby on the way, and I need something with health care and more regular hours,” I had heard him say. And there he was at 9:00 at night, tending bar until midnight. His girlfriend worked a few doors down at the competition. His idea of a better job was at a coffee shop. In his defense, the coffee at the coffee shop was incredible, the service cheery and a social event, and the coffee shop closed at 6:00 pm. This is a man who is going to make this family work. There was determination in his face, and he couldn’t be more proud of that unborn baby. “He’s only 9 weeks old, but my girlfriend said I could tell people, so I am telling EVERYONE!”
There are good parents in this town, and at lest one is joyful in what could be seen as difficult circumstances.
I could spend the rest of my life here. Judah and I might just stay here forever.
Life happens even on a road trip. There are dishes to do, and each of us is expected to take care of their own dish plus pots and pans.
The natives were restless, and we knew of a very unique donut shop in town.
“Go to the donut shop!”
And they went. They walked. They walked halfway across town, crossed streets, walked past strangers, no big deal. You can do that in a tiny town.
We needed an oil change and some other maintenance done on the Suburban and had found a local shop that could get the work done. The kids were wandering the Main Street after donuts, the sugar high causing an aimless stagger, and we gathered them up one by one on our way to the auto shop.
Then we walked to the pool. This would be our life here, or in any small town. Walk here, walk there, walk home. Ride your bike when the distance is a bit far. Drive across town in 5 minutes.
Our walk took us across the railroad tracks, through pretty dirt alleys lined in flowers, and past vintage house after vintage house.
Every back yard we passed had flowers, whether those flowers were planted and tended to or not.
But all good things must end. There is a severe storm warning for tonight and we are in a tent. We needed to change that situation to avoid a sleepless night and a soggy lifestyle, so we packed up.
One of our neighbors at the campground came with his workshop hauled behind his house. He was an art fair leftover, on his way to the next art fair, and he was replenishing his inventory. I stared like a toddler as he climbed out of his enormous house on wheels, sauntered back to his enormous trailer, leveled his deck, and pulled out a saw, a vacuum contraption, and a load of Corian. Then he began to saw. In a campground. And nobody yelled at him! I can die happy knowing a place like this exists.
He told us that he left his job as an auto shop teacher in Rapid City to pursue what he loves, making art and selling it. “Kids don’t take auto shop anymore,” he said. I wanted to tell him that my son would love to take auto shop, but I didn’t think my excitement in meeting him would show through those words. I understand exactly where he is coming from, anyway. It’s why I have taken leave from teaching philosophy. Kids don’t want to take a class on thinking well any more. The difference is tat my class is required. I teach kids to think under duress. There is nothing good or lovely about such a job. In 10 years when the question is asked, “Where have all the teachers gone?” just look for them at the art fairs and in the gentleman homesteads. Chances are they are still teaching, but not in the boxed up institutions where souls go to die. But enough of that.
Micro Donuts. That’s a better topic. That’s right. I said micro donuts. Have you ever wanted a donut, but not an entire donut? And then you go to the donut shop, and not only are the donuts boring, they are also enormous donuts. All you want is a reasonable donut. Like a bit of a donut. And you want cute little topping options, made to order. Pink and white vertical stripes and a cutesie logo would be a plus, but not a chain. It’s gotta be a mom and pop. And you want a California-transplant-turned-midwestern-mama running the place. Sigh.
Stop the car, folks! Micro donuts to the rescue! People, this place is a slice of heaven! You can order “normal” donuts, if you like, but they won’t be enormous. But what you end up ordering are teeny toy-sized donuts with perfect toppings like cotton candy, hazelnut-chocolate, lemon cream, Boston cream, or something called “snow sugar” that makes your mouth smile for a very long time!
The rebels were rioting from deathly hunger, so we grabbed sandwiches at a place sporting this sign ^^^^, appropriate for my kids who now want to come here wearing ONLY shoes and shirts, and headed for the hotel. This hotel had a water slide inside of it. There was a brief conversation about whether it is safe to swim inside during a lightning storm, a conversation that was not resolved, and the kids headed off to swim. We went for drinks at the hotel restaurant.
This traveling with big kids thing is growing on me. We get just a few years of this before they rightly abandon us to their own lives, so we are soaking it up.
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