Countless Times

There's no more perfect time capsule in my hometown. Virtually unchanged since Thomas Spurr built it as the first post office circa 1830, when stagecoaches still rolled down Queen Street – on their way to the Annapolis River crossing giving Bridgetown its name. This has always been some sort of business. J.W. Beckwith's store was here by the late 1870s, and the Monitor newspaper had its offices upstairs. Later, it was the H.L. Ruggles store. But all my life, it's been Fraser's Pro Hardware. Despite the stiff competition of Home Hardware just metres away, they've managed to keep their cut of local customers for decades. Somewhat amusingly for a building supply store, there's long been a charmingly tumbledown look to it. I found a photo from the 1950s, and there's been almost no perceivable changes. Hey, they're here to help your house look good – not their own. Longevity says a lot for a job done well, and my family has shopped here countless times. Me, I've never nailed two boards together, and never will. But I'm well pleased to see these walls standing strong. Evening falls on a town with not much nightlife, and as an introvert, I'm all for it. Gentle drift into darkness like the drifts around my feet, and all souls save me gone home.

February 9, 2025
Bridgetown, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6300 of my daily journal.

1890s:

1958: