One of the businesses washed away by the recent flooding in town was the one and only donut shop.
But the old pioneer can-do, full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes attitude is alive and well and apparently aching to drop some raw dough into a bath of hot oil, as witnessed by the amazing relocation and grand opening of the donut shop, several blocks south (out of the flood plane), less than 2 weeks after being flooded out of existence.
I'm not sure if this move will be a permanent one, but if it, is it suits me just fine. For you see, the view out of my bedroom window, which used to include a recently shuttered pizza joint, now includes the new donut shop.
That's right boys and girls, I can now get up at 3 a.m., and watch the donut maker lady don her knit hair net and make the most perfect of all Americana confections from the comfort and ease of my very own bedroom.
Yesterday morning I intrepidly trekked the 40 or so steps across the street and down a few meters to my new "neighbor" to celebrate their re-opening with a cup of joe, a moist-beyond-belief applesauce cake donut, and a perfectly constructed jelly filled.
I found that all was as it should be in my old/new small town donut shop.
The big tables were filled with retirees on their umpteenth cup of coffee, discussing the weather, the world and their grandkids.
The donut case was filled with row upon row of the ring shaped nuggets of fried dough goodness, along with heaping helpings of fritters, longjohns, biscuits, rolls, and holes.
The coffee pot that the helper was carrying around the joint was filled with the liquid black gold that jump starts America.
The atmosphere was filled with congratulatory well wishes, stories of the flood and the trials and tribulations of turning a defunct pizza joint into a donut shop.
The moment was filled with the joy of seeing a necessary neighborhood icon reopened and ready to serve.
And the jelly donut I was biting into was filled with more than just cherry preserves. It also contained those warm and fuzzy feelings that make supporting your neighbors and the small town businesses they work so hard at, a satisfyingly rewarding experience.
Friday, I'll get the girls up early, we'll walk on over and while PK eats her sprinkles and C munches down her chocolate longjohn, I'll get to show them first hand what you're supposed to do when life hands you a bag of lemons (or more appropriately, washes away your bag of lemons)...
You make donuts.