Small Towns

I grew up in a small town....I mean really small. We had maybe , 2000 people. Then I married and moved to another small town, maybe 2500 people. People that move here from cities and metropolitan areas are often quite uncomfortable until they get used to small town ways. It is a different experience from life in the city.

One of the first things that people notice is that you have to drive to get to the conveniences that they think are necessities. We don't have a mall, shopping centers, huge groceries, theaters, opera, ballet, sixteen different mega-box stores or a dozen restaurants. If we want daily necessities we go to Walmart (yes, there is a Walmart near about every small town in America!) . If we want to shop for fun then we drive, hey, it's a day out.

What we do have more than compensates.

We don't have a Arts Center but we do have a thriving and creative Children's Theater group that puts on outstanding shows. In large cities these budding artist might be lost in the crush of sheer numbers but here they are nurtured and give stellar performances that have helped earn numerous accolades. A spin-off has been an adult group that has given wonderful performances to sell out crowds. (There is nothing quite so much fun as being able to say, "I live next door to the star!")

We don't have a huge department store but we do have an outstanding Christmas Bazaar and Bake sale put on by the Homemakers Clubs and the Crafters Guild. There you can buy hand knitted hats, hand printed silk scarves, softer than clouds alpaca socks that started on the Alpaca, wooden toys, hand crafted jewelry, Christmas decorations, ornaments and gifts. You can cut your baking time by buying jam cakes, stack pies (if you don't know what they are--it's another story), coffee cakes, yeast rolls, cakes, cookies and candies. You won't find their equal in any of the fancy mall stores.

The best part of small towns is the one thing that drives people craziest when they first encounter it. Everyone knows you and all about you. It's really hard to hide or be invisible. I've had people comment that they were called by name by people they had never met. Sure, because they had met that person's daughter, cousin, neighbor, or friend and they had told them about you. It means that news travels fast because we tend to share our interest and concerns about each other. So don't be surprised when the check-out lady in the grocery congratulates you on your child's award at school. She's not being nosy just happy for the accomplishment. In the same way if you've had the flu or an illness in the family you may have the teller at the bank inquiring about everyone's recovery. She's picked it up because her sister-in-law was behind you at the drug store when you bought supplies. Don't be offended!! It's just their way of showing their concern.

You really don't appreciate this attribute until life hands you real troubles. When catastrophes come small towns turn out to help and comfort. Suddenly there is food for families, hugs for comfort, baby-sitters for children, and helping hands for any chore. You don't have to ask, it just arrives. I have seen examples that have shocked those not familiar with small towns. Prescriptions that have come due during a crisis that the pharmacist has called to see if they needed it and then delivered it himself. Cars loaned until repairs can be made, groceries delivered in snowy weather, teachers giving kids rides home from school, neighbors taking care of pets when you can't get home because of a crisis, and on and on. Small towns are best at taking care of their residents in times of need.

Yes, all this also means that if you have a falling out with your Aunt Susie over Thanksgiving dinner you might find the lady at the library asking if you have patched up your quarrel yet!! However, on a whole, it's a small price to pay for the love and kindness of living in a small town.

The Fishing Hole

My daughter and son-in-law decided it was time to take some time off and just have fun with their girls on Sunday.  They had been working hard getting the crops out and remodeling their house (the never-ending project) so a day of relaxation was in order.  In a short time an expedition to the pond on one of the farms was organized.  They loaded the truck with chairs, cool whip containers (for the worms), a bucket, (for the fish), two girls, one five years old and one three, a Barbie fishing pole and a Princess fishing pole, one dog, and two adults and took off for a fun afternoon.

Now, the five year old is an old hand at fishing.  She got her first Princess pole two years ago and unlike most little ones, set about learning how to use it.  She practiced and practiced until she could cast like a pro.  Surprisingly, baiting the hook with worms doesn't cause her a tremor.  She thinks worms are cute but fish are slimy..go figure.  So, she baited up her hook and gave it a mighty cast.  Plop! into the pond it sunk.  In just minutes she had hooked a little brim.  She reeled him in like the little pro she is and handed it to her mommy to take it off the hook.

Soon both girls were fishing away.  The time passed and mommy commented that it didn't look like the fish were biting anymore.  The older girl looked at her witheringly, and remarked, "Mommy, you have to be patient to fish!"  Soon the three year old tired of being "patient" and joined the dog in chasing the frogs around the pond.  The only question was if the dog and the girl would go into the pond with the frogs. 

The afternoon settled into barking dogs, squealing girls and laughing adults.  Soon the little one had tangled up her line on her pole and brought it to mommy to fix.  Mommy straightened it out and gave it a trial cast.  Not being as accomplished as her daughter, she landed her cast near the bank of the pond.  She started reeling it back in and soon felt a jolt on her line.  She reeled some more and the line kept trying to get to the bank.  Then it tried to jump on the bank.  Somehow she had managed to hook one of the frogs.  This quickly became a daddy job.  Daddy grabbed the line and pulled the frog to the bank and caught him.  The frog promptly jumped back in the water.  Now the dog decided she would help and jumped in after the frog.  Daddy drug the frog and the dog out of the water and tried to grab the frog again.  Now both girls and the dog are jumping up and down trying to help.  Eventually daddy has the frog corralled, the dog has been called off and the girls are watching in fascination as he works the hook out of the frog's skin.  With a quick caress from both girls for the "poor little froggy" he is returned to his pond.

With the sun going down and feeding to be done, they load up the truck and head back home.  Who says you have to have an amusement park to create wonderful summer memories.  Eat your heart out Disneyworld.

Unforseen Plans

My daughter has gone home, but her visit ended on an abrupt note. My husband's routine physical, which fell during the first part of her visit, turned up a slightly elevated creatine level. This prompted an ultrasound of his kidneys and bladder. This was followed by a CT scan and two visits to a urologist. The result was that he was suffering from a common male problem of enlarged prostate. His had created the problem of actually closing off the opening from his bladder, resulting in the need for surgery.

We found ourselves bombarded with a huge lack of information. The doctor, while very highly regarded and very well qualified, suffered from the opinion that he could decide just how much we needed to know. While the situation was well described and the surgery explained there were a lot of gaps in what he told us. It left us feeling very pressured to have immediate surgery without really understanding the total situation. We left his office with the surgery planned for the following Monday and three days in which to rearrange hubby's schedule at work for the next two weeks and finish all the projects he was currently involved in. Plus he had to arrange for care for the farm for the next month . He can do nothing for two weeks, then 2-4 weeks of not being able to lift anything or ride a tractor. Plus our daughter was here with her two small children and I needed to take her home. That involved a 10 hour trip one way.

My husband was frantically trying to tie up all the loose ends while I was involved in feeding everyone and trying to figure out how to rearrange my schedule. This didn't leave much time for us to talk about the upcoming surgery. It just really isn't something that we felt comfortable discussing with our children and five grandchildren. My daughter wanted to stay for the surgery, but with a three day hospital stay and her with two little ones to care for, that didn't make a lot of sense. She wouldn't be able to do much to help out and I would just fret. Plus, I really needed to get my house cleaned up from her visit in preparation for buddies dropping by to pass the time with hubby. So finally, all was settled when her brother offered to take her home. This actually allowed them some extra time together, so it was a good solution.

With everyone gone we finally got the time to discuss the upcoming surgery and what we needed to do. While we both felt we had not been given enough information (an Internet search and lot of "male bonding" answered most of our questions) we did feel like the surgery was necessary and urgent. In spite of several who urged us to wait and get a second opinion, which I highly endorse, hubby wanted to go on with the scheduled surgery. I admit to strong misgivings but bowed to his desires, since it is his body, after all.

The surgery was this morning and all went perfectly (according to the doctor of few words). The best news is that he is resting comfortably and not in a lot of pain. He is alert, eating and sitting up watching the football game. His nurse is slender, attractive and looks about 20. However, she is very competent and sneaks in to watch football with him. I think he might be in love. Hopefully he will continue to just feel better and better and the future will be much more comfortable for him.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to keep an active, go-getter in the house for two weeks. I think the odds in town are that he will survive the operation only to be killed by me before the end of the lock-down!

Wish us luck.

A Time of Memories

We have just finished one of life's saddest tasks. My mother-in-law, a sweet, former elementary music teacher, has advanced dementia. For the past seven years she has had to have constant help. We have gone from hiring "sitters" around the clock to now putting her in a private home. We strongly feel that with the advanced stage of her dementia she would not be easy to care for in a nursing home setting. She simply cannot be left alone and must be fed on her schedule when she will eat. So a one on one situation is best for her.

However, this is certainly not the most inexpensive way to provide care for an elderly person. Since she is no longer living in her home and her expenses keep mounting, we have made the decision to sell her home. This means dividing up the household goods and cleaning out a lifetime of collected memories. This is especially painful since she is not gone, just not aware of what is going on.

For the past several weeks we have been sorting through old pictures, letters, awards, music books, keepsakes from her children's school years, and other memories. The decision on what to keep and what to toss out has been heartrending. I want to keep everything but realize that I am just creating a nightmare for my children when the time comes to clean out my "stuff". Just how many boxes of old pictures can you keep? Especially when no one knows who they are anymore. Yet, how can you just toss the memories of a lifetime? What about her mother-in-law's party dishes? Her mother 's collection of delicate handkerchiefs? The fancy aprons (now sadly stained) that her sister made for her each Christmas?

The memories of long gone relatives hung over our shoulders while we sorted and decided. I hope they approve of the decisions we made. They certianly weren't made without a lot of soul searching and thought. I hope our children appreciate the history of the things that we kept. I know they have brought me tender memories of a lovely lady who welcomed me into the family and became my mother. She may not recognize me now, but she will always have my heart. I am blessed to be able to return some of the love and care she gave to me. Thanks for the memories.