Except for ten years in LA, I’ve always lived in small towns. (My definition? Fewer than two highway exits .)
I love so many things about a small town….my mailman knows me, my daughter (who doesn’t even live here any more), my mother (who has moved to UTAH with my sister). he was her mailman, too. He always asks after them.
My doctor? My mothers doctor, too. The nurses in the office ask after her. One of the nurses is having a baby and I knitted her wee babe a sweater (every new baby needs something made expressly for it). She’s the one who gives me my headache shots and she never hurts me. And that’s a BIG THING when you get as many shots as I do. I’m usually walking in, no appointment, with a huge headache and they slip me right in as quick as possible.
My grocery store…they stock the special cheese i like and I bet I’m the only one in town who even buys it. I can send my kids down with a check and they’ll take it. My mother lived across the street and we set it up that way, so Ben could shop for her. The butcher will grind up hamburger with onion and turkey for me, because that’s the way I like it. I’ve forgotten my checkbook and been able to take my groceries home and come back the next day to pay for them. If mom was out of something, she could call me at work, I could call the store and they would not only fill her order, someone would take it over on their break.
My pharmacist went to high school with me. Needless to say, he watches out for me, too. The giant-heartless-chain is not all that heartless. Mitch helps me manage my migraine meds–of which I have a cartload. And he never makes me feel like I’m an idiot, which would be pretty easy to do.
All in all, it is full of really nice people. And the not nice people? I can find them in the newspaper, under incident reports. I know who all is in jail and what for. EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I didnt say it was exciting here, I said I like it.