after the gas station

I'd been planning on posting yet another - and more advanced - version of the squirrel climbing frame that now makes up about a third of the attic (and indeed, I found some acorns already deposited in there). But this bleak sign and bleak vista, on Raritan, aka Route 27, the main drag through Highland Park, was a completely irresistible piece of deadpan aesthetic. Yes, once there was a gas station here, which I patronized in preference to the Raceway down the street (which mainly I avoided because it was Raceway, and didn't trust their cheapness - though that may have been a mistake, since the very pleasant Sikh who works at R'way in fact is a dab hand when it comes to rushing to clean one's windshield). Now - well, goodness knows what's leaching into the ground, and down to the grey greasy Raritan at the bottom of the hill.