Minding the Farm

I've had the great pleasure today to babysit my hometown city hall. My mother, the town's clerk, is away at Municipal Election School, so I'm minding the farm. It's been an exciting day!

This isn't my first go as substitute town guardian. My mom was clerk years ago, and I often babysat town hall as a teenager during the summer when school was not in session. Things have not changed a bit.

So far today, I have looked up telephone numbers for seven different callers. The older people can always remember the number to town hall, but can't remember where their own telephone book is. I suppose it might be that the numbers are very small and difficult to read. So I look up the numbers for them. I've had to call the animal shelter to pick up a stray dog. I've also had to dispatch the police chief for a petty theft. I've tested the tornado siren, which is working quite well.

The exciting news of the week is that the recreation center is finally going up. The storm shelter/basement/foundation has been in place for months, but the building components didn't arrive on time. The truck came today, and the news spread like kudzu. I took a picture of the progress to send to the local newspaper. It will likely make front page.

Though I realize more and more that I should have gone someplace bigger when I was many years younger, there is something still very appealing about the small places. It's simple and unrushed. It's pleasing to think that the entire town will drive or walk by to see the progress on a community center, which will likely find itself used primarily as a place for old men to play Rook and checkers.

It's all right to be little bitty, Alan Jackson sang. There is nothing wrong with being content with small pleasures and small things and small places. I wish I had stayed content with them. Now I'm not exactly sure what to do.