Sometimes refer to our little purveyor of groceries as a supermarket. Probably refers to itself that way as, like the bigger players in North Cyprus, its name ends with ‘mart’. Though if memory serves, as it often refuses to, one of the countries we stayed in - we both think Spain - referred to anything larger than a corner shop as a supermarket. For genuine supermarket size had to look for hypermarts.
The term grocery store is almost obsolete. But what our local reminds me of really is the old general stores of my childhood. No fly paper hanging from the ceiling and beer and soft drinks are refrigerated. No reaching into the dark waters of the big metal cooler to find a favourite. But a bit of everything. Fruit and veg. Yoghurt and cheese. Lentils. Coffee. Chicken. Sausage. Sourdough bread baked in their oven. But also buckets and mops. Light bulbs and batteries. Wine, whiskey and gin. Cigars - though apparently not especially impressive ones.
And, like the general stores of time past, the people who work there recognise us. Not by name, but they know we’re regulars. It’s a neighbourhood store.
Second two photos are of one of the general stores of my childhood. It was built in the 1840’s in the Eastern Townships of Québec and has remained a general store cum living quarters ever since. The Jewett family has owned and operated it since 1944, and I believe credit is due to them for the photographs.
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