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.

Open House

I guess I have never realized what a good friend my husband is. It was obvious that he knew a lot of people but had never really figured out how much they all thought of him.

Since his surgery he has been confined to the house. This has caused a lot of betting in town. The bets are mostly concerning how long he will last before the drives me to brain him with something. He's not known for being the most patient man, nor for doing a lot of sitting around. He's also not known for doing what he is told, especially if he doesn't agree with it. So the two weeks of enforced inactivity have everyone wondering how he will handle it.

I guess I could describe it, so far, as a big office party. His partners have been here most days with work for him to do and keeping him updated. My computer has been commandeered and I am now working from my laptop on the kitchen table. I've quit even answering the phone because I know it's not for me. The good news is that he hasn't been starting work until after he's had his hot breakfast (after years of me dishing out cold cereal. He's not milking this for all he can get or anything).

The party has been from the constant stream of visitors who have come by to keep him entertained. The weather has been perfect fall weather, so a lot of the visits have taken place on the back porch. The hill has rocked with deep bursts of male laughter. The tall tales have been followed by short jokes and local news. My job is rather like a maid. I bring them something to drink, fix them food and stop to listen and giggle.

I always knew he was a good and caring man. However, the truth of how good a friend he is, is in the number of his friends that have wanted to be sure he was entertained in his "house arrest". They have come to keep him company, lift his spirits, and encourage him. They have brought food, cards, and lots of caring. A lot of people have to die before they find out how much people care. We have been lucky to discover this while we can still enjoy the party.

Thanks guys.

Small World

It really is a small world.

Thirty-eight years ago Bob accepted a job to open an office for a lending company for farmers in a small town. We had passed through there going to and from school, but didn't know anything about it. It was pretty and a lot like the small community that we grew up in, but that was the extent of our knowledge of it. Of course, the first thing we did was call our parents and tell them the news. This would mean that we would be only about one hour from home, which tickled them. The first thing my dad said was, "I think I know someone from there. Let me check."

Sure enough, the next night we get a call. There was a couple who lived just up the street from my parents, who had been friends with my grandparents. He had originally come from this same community and just happened to have a nephew who still lived there and was a real estate agent. Small world. I also believe in "meant to be". We called this young man, made an appointment to see some houses on a Saturday morning on the way to see my sister. We looked at three houses, talked all night and made an offer on our way back through on Sunday evening. An impulse that put us in a perfect location with great neighbors for the next 13 years. It was meant to be.

Then the small world part kicks in again. Around the corner lived a great couple with a large family. Some were grown, some still in high school. In talking to this couple I realized that one of their daughters was a friend from college. In fact, we had pledged the same sorority. For years after that, when she came home she would trot around the corner for a quick catch-up visit.

Life moves on. Our children grew up, we moved to the country, she moved to another town. We still kept in touch, sort of, through her mother, but we really lost touch. Then this morning I received a call from her mother. With a catch in her voice she said, "you know our Kate has cancer". It seems she is taking chemo and losing her hair. Her mother said that she remembered how good my wigs looked and wanted to help her daughter find a perfect one. I immediately gathered up my wig catalogs, that I keep on hand for just this reason. I took them to her house and had a long talk with her. I think she felt better. I did love my wigs. They were cheap, synthetic, and kept me from feeling that I looked sick. I was so glad that I could help in a small way with this traumatic time.

It is a small world.