Well, not quite yet, but the former KFC on Broadway and East 4th is slated to open up as a Dunkin’ Donuts…soon.
Dunkin’ Donuts has a soft spot in my heart. We didn’t have one in Kinderhook until after I was already living away from home, but there were plenty of DDs in Albany and Schenectady. I remember associating fun Easter brunches and family baptisms with a box of Munchkins brought by my Uncle Bill–he’d never let me down. I loved the blueberry cake donut holes. I still do. Glazed goodness.
Later, when I worked at Capital News 9, it was my Friday tradition to go through the drive through on Central Ave to get a Mocha Coolatta and a bacon, egg and cheese on a croissant. Mmm. And their iced coffee is the best. I wonder if, in Denver, we’ll be able to order it “light and sweet”?
What a fun way to start summer!
It’s strawberry season in California.
Or, at least that’s what California wants us suckers in Colorado to think.
So far, the strawberries Safeway and King Soopers are selling us in plastic quart containers are mushy and half-red and not at all sweet. I’m certain they ripened in the back of a tractor trailer.
I’m craving some Columbia County berries from the fields of my childhood.
Michael and I have wonderful baby- and childhood memories of berry-picking with our Mimi and momma. We’d each carry around a small container — my mother a large metal pail that once belonged to Mimi — just for picking. When we arrived at whatever patch struck our fancy on a particular Thursday or Monday or Tuesday (all the days were the same in late spring and early summer — sunshine and swimming and playing) we’d get our pails weighed and get to picking.
I loved the smell of warm berries and their leaves in the field. There is NOTHING like the taste of a strawberry that’s ripened on the vine in a big wide field.
The last time I picked was the week before I moved to Denver. We were at Queechy enjoying July and our last bits of home before taking a huge leap and big adventure. My mother was making shortcake and needed us to get her some berries. Pick we did–on Route 9 in Valatie at Yonder Farms.
California could never compare.
With a shift of winds, a shift in vision.
Around lunchtime I took a walk with Kevin in the park and it was gorgeous. Bright sunshine and lovely clouds.
Just four hours later the air in Cheesman Park was thick with smoke and haze that burned eyes and parched throats. The sun was barely visible.
Down south, evacuations started early and people are leaving 12,000 acres worth of forest and ranch and neighborhood.
It’s often nerve-wracking for me, this dry land.
This evening made me long for the cool waters and clear breezes of Queechy–where tomorrow, they’re expecting rain through the weekend.
It was one of those weekends in Denver that went by with very little to cross off on the calendar. We were so happy for that.
The weather was beautiful and the days were long. Together and separately we ran a few errands, rode cruisers and took Belle for walks and runs in the park. We went out for dinner on Saturday and made dinner last night. We got nothing and everything accomplished. We did NOT look at real estate.
Lots of naps and downtime. Lots time outside in the glorious sun.