I’m away from “06880” for a few days — literally, though not cyberhoodically.
I’m in 05676. That’s Vermont. The Staples boys soccer team is on its annual summer trip. A ropes course, running up and down mountains, paintball — you know, the usual stuff.
I love Westport. I also love Vermont. They’re very different, of course. But, a couple of days before I left, I realized that there’s a little bit of Vermont in one tiny corner of Westport.
It’s Christie’s Country Store.
Everything about it — including the name, which it’s kept since 1926 — oozes a simpler way of life. (Though the food — in a nod to modern-day tastes — is not stuck in the Jazz Age.) And there’s a great ice cream stand next door. (Right next to a great auto repair shop.)
All day long, real people wander in. Local kids ride bikes. Neighbors meet neighbors. Contractors, lawn maintenance guys, repairmen, delivery folks — all stop by.
The view of Christie’s porch…
Most customers are regulars. They banter with the staff.
They hang out at large tables inside. Or eat on the porch.
And there — watching what passes for the world going by on Cross Highway — is the real Vermont vibe.
It’s quiet. It’s green. It’s serene.
Occasionally, cars go past. A guy on a bike, or a woman walking a dog. But they’re all at the right speed.
…and the view from it.
I eat in peace. I’ll soon have Westport places to go, Westport things to do.
But for a while, at least, I have Vermont.