I have always liked to ramble around in general stores. Maybe this is because I am a “generalist” at heart. I am a little bit this and a little bit that,
so finding things of interest in the Tractor Supply Company was very easy. I came with a friend who is a Master Gardener
(I think master gardeners like capital letters in their titles), and was left
to my own devices to wander the aisles while she poked around in the garden
section of the store.
I have never owned or driven a tractor, but I know how to
file spark plugs to get a motor to turn over.
I have raised and trained horses, milked a sweet Jersey cow (and made
the tons of yogurt and cheese she inspired), kept chickens and ducks and
rabbits and an ornery goose. I have
adored my share of big dogs and a curious assortment of cats. I have helped to build two houses (including
doing the wiring and plumbing).
I have raised three daughters—but despite my best efforts,
only one of my daughters would admit to being interested in anything in a general
store. That would not be the case with
my grandchildren, however. Kids can make
toys of just about anything, especially when they should not. For instance, consider my trusty mini-lantern
for camping. Unbeknownst to me, until
well after the fact when dead batteries gave it away, that little lantern went
on a series of “camp-outs” in the Barbie tent in the living room, where all the
lights were turned out for the best simulated nighttime effect. Assuming I could reclaim my own lantern, I am
delighted to find a bin full of mini-mini lanterns. I purchase all five royal blue lanterns that
are just the right size for the five notorious little in-house campers in my
life.
All things galvanized attract my eye, as though I am a
watchful raven just looking for something to pick up and squirrel away. Large galvanized tubs are especially hard to
walk past without conjuring up images of four-year olds armed with garden
hoses, wild-eyed puppies getting their first bath after a roll in you-know-what
in the pasture, and—of course—kids bobbing for apples. When I come back to the present, I have to
admit that I don’t really need a galvanized tub right now. And then I become aware of the aroma of well-oiled
leather—boots, bags, totes, or tack? I
have to investigate.
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Courtesy Ed Issacs | Dreamstime Copyright |
I owe a debt to the person who thought of making saddle
blankets out of some fabric other than wool.
And a second nod to the person who decided that the world needed saddle
blankets striped in black and lavender.
The marketing target here is obviously female, and probably on the
younger side. I scooped up two of these
blankets because the lavender perfectly matches the color in an oil painting of
a roping team that I have hanging on the wall.
The old leather couch will have a new, functional covering.
I have dim memories of Crystal Gayle, and Barbara and Louise
Mandrell, but I haven’t listened to country music since Leann Rimes’ hit,
“Blue.” Except of course, Taylor
Swift—it seems like everyone listens to her music occasionally. Regardless, I was happily propelled through
the aisles of the Tractor Supply Co. store by vaguely familiar country western
melodies to which I could not attach song titles or artists’ names.
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Courtesy Liz Van Steenburgh | Dreamstime Copyright |
As I worked my way to the front of the store, I made one
last foray. Here were rows of baskets
(probably made of woven ash) that could serve as props for any upscale design
magazine. The bushel baskets were my
favorite as I could just picture them filled to the brim with harvest
bounty. Amazingly, the baskets are
stamped Made in the USA. I like that
quite a lot. It is emblematic of this
entire store. It was as though I had
stepped into the contemporary room of a museum dedicated to agrarian Americana.
This tour of Tractor Supply Co. left me in the mood to visit
the Cowboy Museum. Though I’m likely to
write about a restaurant or two before I make it to the museum. I’ve only been to a few restaurants in town,
and they have all been truly pleasant experiences.