Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Small Town Vignette #1

There are so many things I absolutely love about living, by choice, in a little town of 800.  Some are expected given the size and some are random, it-could-only-happen-here, sort of events.

Across the street from my studio windows is an old fashioned Barber Shop with the old fashioned moving red, white and blue striped barber pole in the window. The woman who owns it is always very busy the five days a week she is open. Almost all old timer's and retirees are her clientele. It's a rarity to see her chair empty though.

Awhile back she was closed for months during a series of chemo treatments for cancer. When she returned the turnout was beautiful. . . all her old clients returned and business is, from where I sit, good.

Just the other day we noticed a new addition beside the barber shop. Built by her husband to look like and old style, blue and white phone booth, it is a little booth with a seat in it and the sign, instead of "Telephone" says, "Cell Phone Booth"

I love this for several reasons.

One, it's just a great way to say, "take your calls outside please!" without it being confrontational or rude. Seriously, I am so grateful to live in a place where the majority of people scrunch up their face and shake their heads when someone is using a cellphone inside a business. Personally, I have, for some time now, had it with the need for people to be "connected" 24-7 in every store and in every place of business. And I applaud any business that will draw that line and say, "Not in here"

But more than that I love the fact that, without a doubt in our town, there was no permit process or debate over whether this little addition was ok or not just off the public sidewalk. No sign zoning or city ordinance to deal with. Though it is quite possible a deal was made for volunteer hours or a donation.

The point is that I love being in a place where people are left to do as they wish (within limits) and that there is still room for a little ingenuity and originality and it doesn't cost you to do it at every turn. Occasionally this means having to deal with the guy who has a fire-pit and a couple of beat up couches on his lawn for his weekend loving, classic rock, beer drinking soirees. Even that becomes endearing in it's own way. . .

This little fishing town is changing as it turns it's collective eye to tourism a bit more but, in the meantime, I will enjoy the small things like that cell phone booth and celebrate the fact that places still exist where nothing much changes but, when it does, it isn't always necessary to fill out an application and apply for permission for it to change.



  1. It sounds like a lovely place to be. Little towns are wonderful, quirks and all. I have lived in a few myself. Their walls can close in at times, but looking back you always only remember the good times. And the folk you meet there are your friends for life. x

    1. This is my third go around. . . I seemed to be drawn to small towns starting with an Amish town as early as my 20's but it didn't stick til now. I have learned the hard way in those past attempts about the walls closing in and, this time, I am better prepared for the self sufficiency required to keep distance from the very walls themselves. lol Solitude is a wonderful way of expanding what seems small. . .

      This time around it feels different. Like I was rushing into it before now. . . trying too hard to fit it in instead of waiting for the space a small town life requires to open in my soul. :)

      XO nicolas

  2. PS I love your blog and always read it, I'm sorry if I do not always comment, you write such insightful things that always seem to reasonate with me. I love this connectivity. Libra-libra. x

    1. Louise, it is always a treat to see you here and to know you are reading my words when time allows. :) Thank you!!