Small Town Livin'

I grew up in the country. {Ryan did too, actually...about two miles from my house. Yeah. We're that couple.} My parents had a couple of acres five miles from the nearest town and twenty miles from the nearest city of significance. We were surrounded by fields that left my mom's clean windows coated in dust come harvest time, but our views of sunrises and sunsets were unobstructed. {And I wasn't at a stage in life where I could fully appreciate that blessing.} We had two neighbors within walking distance, and that was it. Everyone else was a car-drive away, and things like going for a walk or a bike ride were always a bit of a risk, since the road by our house was a heavily used highway.

When I went to college and moved into the dorm at IWU, my entire world was revolutionized by things like city blocks and stores within a mile of my bed. Essentially, I could crave a hamburger and have it in five minutes. Stop. Is this real life??

I became a bit spoiled with such conveniences and staying in the city limits the last fifteen years has merely fed the spoiling. I've been known to start dinner, realize I'm out of a major ingredient and HAVE the ingredient back in my house in under ten minutes. {If you missed it, that means I drove to the store, shopped, paid, and drove home all in ten minutes.}

But city life {even though Marion is just a "city" compared to the cities where some of you live} has its drawbacks. The moments that make me scratch my head and wonder if my parents did something right by picking a country life. And then I remember how much I sometimes need hamburgers in a hurry, and I realize I would make a very poor country girl these days.

But last week.

Last week.

We had that yard sale over in Greentown, the small town NEAR where we grew up. The small town where we went to school. I went over the day before the sale to organize our stuff, and I set up our folding table in the grass outside the garage on the alley. I wandered in and out, listening to cars speed by on the highway, and enjoying the sunny day. Every now and then, a car crept down the alley, driving slowly so as not to spit gravel into grass, and when the drivers approached me, they slowed down even more, stopping to ask if I was having a good day...if I was moving into the house...if I was prepping for a sale.

Complete strangers took time to pause their cars and chat, and not once did I feel scared for my very life. We laughed and joked and I secretly figured most of them would know my parents if I told them who I was, but even though they didn't know they probably knew me, they took time to be nice.

My stomach growled loudly when lunchtime rolled around and I made my way to the gas station for some pizza and coke {and it tasted EXTRA good that day after a morning of pawing through a spider-filled garage}. I wasn't so far from civilization that I couldn't get a good gas station meal in a few minutes' time.

I drove past the little grocery store...I watched all the regulars wander in and out of the diner across the street...and I even chatted with a neighbor who stopped to chat on her walk to the utility office to pay her water bill. {Do I even know where the utility office IS in my town?} I remembered the Friday night a few weeks back, when Ryan and I drove over late to move our rummage stuff into the garage, and the whole town sky lit up from the lights at the football field, and as we pulled out of town, people flooded the sidewalks, making their way home from the game.

We are fully aware that at this time, the Lord does not seem to be releasing us from our little Shafferland house in the "city" - but I will not lie. A weekend of small town life absolutely charmed my socks off, and it's hard to push away the wistful feelings of living in a lovely little place like that.