Driving to a place you've been dozens of times, you know every stop sign, every bend in the road, everything you'll see as you make your way there. You've been there with you're mother and you're grandmother. You've seen the homemade sign that reads 'TRUCK-PATCH" nailed to the red building, and you've always wondered why a farm stand would be called that. You've been there when you were too small to see into the large displays of all the corn that was grown in the fields you passed getting there. You've been there when you were just old enough to pick out the perfect nectarine for yourself, eating it on the way home, leaving your hands sticky and your stomach satisfied. You've been there on days when you were allowed to get a treat for no specific reason at all, the 60 cent ice cream bar or the 50 cent can of soda. You still go, and now you can see everything, and corn still costs 40 cents, cans of soda 50, ice cream 60. The little things that used to make you happy and nostalgic when you were five, still make you happy and nostalgic now.
