My Guy and I bought an old house in a small town. The town is lovely; it’s quaint; it’s old; it’s the town I grew up in (except my parents lived in the country, not in town). It’s the best of both worlds because it’s only fifteen minutes from another (bigger) small town and only twenty-five minutes from a (small-ish) big city.
We live in our small town and take walks and run to the neighborhood grocery store for a gallon of milk, but that’s about it. We go to church and out to fast food and grocery shopping in the (bigger) small town next to us. We go to work and out to nice restaurants and all sorts of shopping in the (small-ish) big city. That means that most places we drive, there is anywhere from a fifteen to forty-five minute drive. It’s not bad by any means, but a drive all the same.
That is why when I have a day at home with several errands to run in this small town of ours, it is just splendid. I truly getting the “feeling” of a small town resident.
Saturday, there was no work to drive to, no church to travel to, just my small town errands. To the neighborhood grocery store I went to pick up some bread and a couple other items. Then a stop at my sister’s house four blocks from our home to feed their pets since they were out of town.
Then I drove down to the teeny tiny library two blocks away to return some rentals.
And a final stop at the farmer’s market one block from home to pick out some pum’kins. (I needed some more pum’kins.)
And that was it! All done in about twenty minutes. Living next to a (bigger) small town and a (small-ish) big city definitely has perks I wouldn’t want to give up, but living in a small town? You just can’t beat the feeling.
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