Monday, June 9, 2014

Big Move to a Small Town

Shortly after we got married, we decided to leave the big city of Atlanta and move to my husband's hometown. Now this meant going from Atlanta, capitol of the south, population 1.2 million (at that time - yes I am that old) to his home town - population 423. No culture shock there. In total disclosure, the town is located in the same county I grew up in. However, being reared in the county seat (population 12,000), this small town was still worlds away.

I can remember one evening before we moved, we were standing on the steps of the Arts Center in Atlanta, dressed in our finery, waiting for our friends to meet us for the opening night of "Swan Lake" and thinking to myself, "Well, I never really cared for ballet anyway - right?" So moving far away from civilization wouldn't be so bad.

And it wasn't that bad - at all. We settled into his old family home - I think he was the 4th generation to live there. Life was good. The slow pace was a respite from the traffic and bustle of the big city. But it took some getting used to. There are no secrets in a little town. Sometimes I felt like I didn't even have to tell my husband what was for supper - he already knew. Someone had seen me at the small grocer downtown shopping, surveyed my buggy, and mentioned to him, "Well, it looks like pork chops tonight." Maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.

There was a bit of a culture shock. Even though I had grown up just 23 miles down the road, having lived in Charleston and Atlanta, I had picked up a few things in the big city. The family was really good at introducing me to everyone in town - especially the ones we were not kin to. One family member kept telling me I needed to meet Trish - I'd like her. She had moved there from Miami. (I guess she thought all "outsiders" could relate.) 

Finally, I asked her how I would recognize Trish if I ran into her. "Oh that's easy," she said, "she's the one who drives this funny looking car and wears a man's watch - you can't miss her." When I finally did meet Trish, I did like her - however, I knew the witch was dead and everything was in color - Trish drove a Volvo station wagon and wore a Rolex watch. Toto, we were not in Kansas anymore.

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