The Other Side of Town, Pumpkin Edition

 

Yesterday I awoke with one thought on my mind. 

“Today is the day I will get apple cider donuts. If I wait any longer it will be too late.”

The most reliable choice was a trip to Frank’s. I got some there last year. Going to Frank’s in the fall makes you want to be back in preschool when all that mattered were stacks of colorful, assorted gourds and row upon row of shiny orange pumpkins. Yes, there are all sorts of edible items for purchase but, as a preschool teacher at heart, I yearned to buy an enormous assortment of The Fall Stuff.

Ahem.

Frank’s has made sure you don’t just drive on by with an impressive display along the road.

Have you ever wondered what a fifty dollar pumpkin looks like? Look no further.

Walking through the bins of different apples was a sensory experience. I inhaled the appley fragrance and looked at the variety in shape and coloring. I wondered if I should buy some to make applesauce. In the end I bought one perfect butternut squash. They’re labeled as “Winter squash” for some reason. 

And the donuts.

If you give a mom an apple cider donut, she’ll want some iced coffeee to go with it. Especially if it’s October 28th and a sunny 75-ish day. The closest Dunkin to Frank’s is on University Boulevard in that same shopping center as Tribos Peri Peri and Jam Eateries.

It’s a teeny-tiny place tucked in there. I hadn’t been to this location before and I was amazed at the effort they have put into guiding you to the drive-through entrance. It’s by far the most complicated and heavily-signed drive-through I have ever seen. Directions are painted onto the pavement to take you all the way around Robin Hood’s barn to place your order. 

It all worked but I found it kind of amazing. Have you ever been to that Dunkin? Any thoughts?

It struck me as I turned off of Waterloo Road onto Lark Brown and headed back to Frank’s how different that part of town is compared to where I live. It feels like a world apart, but that’s because I live in Columbia. I’m sure that the folks who live near Frank’s think there’s something strange about where I live.

And we’re honestly not so far apart, although my brain always tells me that it’s “all the way on the other side of town.”