I spent most of today in Stillwater, MN with my friend Jessica.  We’ve known each other since we were both in a.m. kindergarten together and I was afraid to go up into the (safe: railing-guarded and carpeted) loft for the first month or so of school.  Today, we were old enough to spend a full hour and a half poking around an antique store without being warned by parents not to touch anything.  Time sure flies.

Stillwater is one of those River Towns.  There’s the river, obviously (the St. Croix in this case), but there’s also the particular history and charm that accompanies such a town.  Train stations-turned-restaurants line the bank, tiny shops padded with specialty yarns and hand-painted stationary are kept afloat by the sheer force of summer tourism, and it’s difficult to imagine that there are people who actually live permanently in such an idyllic, oft-visited place, although of course they do.

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I wasn’t lying when I said we spent an hour and a half in an antique store.  It was three huge levels full of gold, and since we’re adults now, we can stroke green felt-topped desks, attempt to read postcard messages scrawled in 1914, and laugh at hideous fur coats until our hearts are content.
My favorite find: you step on the scale, and it vibrates to soothe tired feet.
Then, bundling against the 20 degrees (like it’s something we’re not used to by now), we walked down to the river.


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