Small town living has it's blessings. When I ran out of gas on the highway coming home from an upstate swim meet with my LD, I was able to pull in at a roadside shop. I went inside to ask where the nearest gas station was. I asked the gal behind the counter who owned it (I knew she'd know her neighbors) and then I called the gas station. I called the owner by name when she answered the phone and said, "Hey......it's St Casserole, how y'all doing?" I spoke to her as if I knew her and told her my problem. She sent over her son who put in enough gas to get me to the station for more. He wouldn't take any money and said, "Mama said she hoped you'd come by. She hasn't seen you in years." This was charming as I did not know his Mama from Adam's housekitty. We went by the station, filled the gas tank and I went inside to pay. Mama and I greeted each other as if we'd known each other for years. It wouldn't be polite to forget someone even if you never met them. Is that sweet or what?

Small town living has it's down side when rumors get going and won't stop. I was having lunch when the preacher's wife came over all concerned. She asked me if it was true that the LH and I were separated. I 'bout started crying because that question hurt. I told her that was not true and she must have us confused with someone else. I asked her to tell me who'd told her this rumor and she refused. I can't stand that. Let me know who is saying what and I'll call them and deal with it. Don't do that junior high school thingie of saying mean stuff but not giving the hearer a way to fix it. I pressed her for the name but she wouldn't budge. Made me angry.

Small town life has sweet moments for sure like yesterday when I was having a pedicure in our local Cut 'n Curl. The gal two chairs over and I began to visit. I didn't know her but enjoyed the chat. I finished with a new coral OPI polish (wish I could remember the name!) on my toes. As I was leaving, she asked me how my cat was doing. I was shocked as she called my Old Man Cat by name and I didn't understand how she knew him. Turns out that she was his first owner and was the previous owner of our home. I hadn't met her in all these years. She told me that O M C was born in 1984 in a neighboring county on farm. He was a gift to her daughter. When she divorced the previous owner of our home and moved on, he would not let her take O M C and she's missed the kitty ever since. I invited her to come by and see him. She was stunned that he was alive still. Can you believe he is 21 years old? He's on daily IV's for his kidney disease but eats well, runs, jumps on my lap and seems ok but more frail. His eyesight is very poor and he doesn't feel the need to groom himself much. I comb him and damp mop him with a washcloth.

This is all the big news I have. My sermon is 7/8's finished. Thanks for being here.