Where I live, our local Supervisor and furniture refinisher has a lamb in his shop window this morning. I can hear her bleating for attention across the court house lawn. And everyone at the table later will understand – she needed feeding and no one would be home enough that day to do it, so he brought her along. It’s just what you do.
Where I live, Mark and the guys change my oil and fill ‘er up while talking about how much we raised at the latest dinner/fundraiser – this time for Emergency Shelter funds for the needy. (Mark is the county’s go-to guy for putting together a great dinner for hundreds at the drop of the proverbial hat.)
Where I live, death is as practical as life, so we all stop on our way to or from the funeral at the Dollar General to pick up our sundries and think it no disrespect – Guy would have done the same, after all.
Where I live, Deb will follow me to the gas station to drop off the car and drive me back the ½ block to Evelyn’s for our meeting just because she knows I hate to walk in the cold.
Where I live, I catch up with friends sitting in their warm car in the church parking lot after catching them doing a drop off for tomorrow. That’s visiting and none of us will think it odd that I don’t invite and they don’t expect to come in – we’re both kind of busy just now, but want to catch up, so car visit it is.
Where I live, many of the folks at Guy’s funeral will come up to ask me how my mother’s doing after her car wreck, because they’ve all been praying for her and genuinely want to know.
Where I live, people will tell you if it was a good funeral or not and why, because where I live, folks have lots of practice at funerals and we all know the difference between a good one and a bad one and good send-offs matter.
Where I live, lucky is scooting back across Jack Mountain into the lower highlands just in time to beat the ice and snow and we’re all happy for all the luck we get.
Where I live, a preacher of one church will borrow a congregant from another for some special service or event, because we’re just too small to think it strange to do so.
Where I live, the extraordinary blends in with the ordinary, wearing the camouflage of this thing we call life, sliding by so quietly we almost don’t even notice – almost.
Oh, to live where you live. What a pleasant sounding place to be. You are so blessed whether you know it or not.
ReplyDeleteHey Girlie! - where I live these things might not happen on the "block", much less the whole county! Miss you (and Highland)!
ReplyDelete