As I walk in town on Tuesdays, I witness simple, yet remarkable things
The small butcher business that eats breakfast together, complete with place settings, and those who take their smoke break together in lieu of breakfast.
The small group of minority children, latino and middle eastern, who wait for the bus on the same corner as the KKK appeared the first year I moved here. Progress is good.
The couple who eat at the table by the window overlooking their yard.
The old man who sits in his breezeway, staring out into the yard.
The older woman who thanked me for putting her Times paper on the porch along with her Merchandiser every week (and I didn't think she noticed).
The honk and wave of those I know who I know I love it when they honk and wave.
The bus driver that drove my children to school over a period of 10 years, who still smiles and waves.
The local pharmacist who knows what I am picking up without even asking.
That's small town life.
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