the pieces of my life

Arlington Heights has an old-fashioned five and dime, Balich’s. A five and dime that I imagine must have flourished in the 1950s. I can’t fathom how it stays in business now, but it’s been there for ages. It’s the perfect place to wander on a cloudy day when you have a baby who just won’t settle down (not that I ever have a baby who won’t settle down). The aisles are packed with things piled on the floor. Bins are filled with candies (individual fire balls, anyone?) and bubble gum cigarettes. Sewing notions and hair wraps from my grandmother’s generation. Toys, kitchen drawer liners, Pooh Bear glasses, tools, turkey cookie cutters, happy birthday banners, staples, pots, you name it, it’s there. An old man works the counter and all the prices are hand written on items. I thought about doing all my holiday shopping there but then decided I’d like it a lot more than my recipients. I really didn’t have a point in blogging about it, but it made an impression on me–a mini time warp on bleak day–so there you are.

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