Life in a Small Town

When I first turned sixteen and obtained a driver’s license, I made a deal with myself that I would still bike and walk places.  I did not want to become someone who couldn’t get around without a car.  Most of the rest of my reasoning as a sixteen year old driver was awful.  But this decision serves me well even twenty-four years later.

Now that I’ve lived in a small town for four years, I can say I’ve walked nearly everywhere, though seven months of the year I’m pretty limited by cold temps.  Even then, when I start to feel like I may go crazy, I do battle with the temperature, bundle up, and stomp around my neighborhood block, just to defy the frigid demon that wants to steal my sanity.

Today, though, I just want to tell you a couple funny small town stories.

Last week, as we perused Downton Dollar Days, where the businesses set out merchandise they want to get rid of, some cute Christmas ornaments caught my eye.  The bookstore owner handed my kids cups of root beer and then eyed me, deciding he was going to make a sale and get rid of twenty of them once and for all.  I asked him how much they were.  With an evil gleam in his eye he asked how many I wanted.  I said three.  He set his jaw and told me I could have three for a dollar each or I could take them all for three dollars.  I told him he was naughty, and then I walked away with way too many cloth animal Christmas ornaments.  Thankfully, I got a really great deal on a kids’ book series I’d been wanting, and he confirmed I had a good eye.  So we’re still friends.

This morning I went through airport security.  The security man who called me through the x-ray scanner has eaten dinner at my home.  His kids hang with mine and I chat with his wife pretty often.  Unfortunately I’d forgotten to take my earbuds out of my back pants pocket and it was a horrifying moment when the machine showed a big red area to pat over my right buttocks.  He’d also had to tell me to take off my lightweight jacket, under which I just had a scanty running shirt on.

Awkward and funny.  Thank goodness for regulations that require a female to come do the patting.

Anyway, small towns are funny that way.  This one is growing on me.

Sounds of Childhood

I asked the Lord the other morning, during our breakfast prayer, to help us see the gifts He gives us throughout the day.  Gifts we wouldn't notice, or maybe not even consider as gifts.

The morning flurry followed, and soon Raleigh was playing the piano and Dawson was playing the violin and Timmy decided I needed to play Deep Blue Sea with him.

So we sat down and I began.  Timothy's voice interrupted me..."no, we can't play it until Dawsy stops his violin.  I want to be able to hear the fishies splash."

We played, and the fishies not only splashed but sang "fiddledeedee" and the butterfly and parrot flew away.

Tonight that same little boy came into my bedroom saying he couldn't sleep because the dinosaurs were being too loud.  His new comforter and sham have dinosaurs on them, and the sham he was trying to sleep on was apparently  full of non-tired dinosaurs.

These are my gifts, the sounds of childhood.  How easily I shut my ears to them, busy with tasks and thoughts and struggles.

But the sound of fishies splashing and dinosaurs playing are waiting, beckoning me to notice.

Raspberries and Toblerone

My brother stayed with us a few summers ago and started a tradition.  When the sunflowers in the garden bloom, we share with the neighbors.  This year we added a bag of Raspberry Crumble Muffins to the gift.

They are incredible.  To ensure you believe me I will tell you a story.  I made them for my sister's baby shower two years ago and she looked at me with scorn.  Scorn, I tell you, because she LOVES raspberries and could not BELIEVE I would damage them in an oven.

After she ate one, though, she asked for the recipe and made me some the next year.  See?  They're incredible.

Also, I met up with two of my girlfriends from college.  One was traveling through though she resides in Texas.  We made three stops before we found a Toblerone.  But we did.  Because they're very important.
VERY.  IMPORTANT.

We had our first Toblerone moment when I shared one with them on the top of Middle Sister in the Three Sisters Wilderness.  We've eaten them at weddings, birthdays, births, and now every time we're together because it's not very often.  For sixteen years now we've enjoyed these moments.

Hopefully someday we'll get a check from Toblerone.

On Her Own

The fourth to learn on the little red bike.  She's riding, full of life displayed in scrapes, bruises and tangles.

Pausing to enjoy....