The Old Home Town

While driving back to the Cleaner-Upper house (see blog for 8-1-12 for clarification)  after church this morning with the car windows down, the fragrance of Summer Perfume overwhelmed me.  The scents of mature pasture grasses, pine trees, and last night’s rain converged, opening pathways to a network of internal receptors and introspective thoughts.  This triggered a thoughtful mode, and I reviewed the past several days spent in a familiar geographical area – my old home town.

The farm.  This is where we lived for 30 years on 26 acres of hard-core-country about 20 miles from the city. The country smells there used to inspire me as well – smells associated with haymaking, calf feeding, chicken slaughtering, gardening, canning, jelly making, and just living close to the earth when the sun baked the earth on a hot summer day like today.

Main Street.  I’ve driven by those store fronts hundreds of times: the candy shop on the corner, the studio where an artist crafts custom jewelry, the quiet strip that periodically erupts with a farmer’s market.  Once a long time ago my car was almost hit by the diesel engine that no longer chugs through the middle of town, intersecting with Main. 

Marsh. That’s the grocery where my regular checker, blonde little Sandy, tallied my groceries and smiling slow-on-the-go Virgil carefully bagged them as if they were precious gold.

Rita’s house.  This imposing Victorian house on 9^th Street became my bi-monthly responsibility for a season.  Rita was the only client during my three years as a housekeeper to ever leave a tip.

The hospital.  Our last child was delivered there.  Now the parking lot is overgrown with weeds.  The entire building has been abandoned.

The shopping center. The end unit on the end of this little mall (originally a tiny private dwelling) housed my bakery/lunchroom business for seven years.  So much sweat behind those windows.  So much challenge sweetened with success that changed me forever.

K.N. – A special friend has inspired, encouraged, and supported me for a long time.  I chatted with her yesterday; nothing had been lost between us despite my move from the area over two years ago.

During this visit, I’ve been drawn back into the life I lived here for 30 years by a primal, involuntary sense of belonging.  I’ve moved on to another wonderful location, and yet it has been good to touch base with the place that helped shape the person I have become.