Dominical Dot Biz

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Today marks the 1 week point of my visit to Davis California. I know this since the Farmer’s Market is happening again.

I was taking photos of the event when this fellow comes up to me and says, “is that an S2IS”? or something like that. I said “I don’t know”, but upon further investigation, which involved looking at the front of the camera, I determined that it was, in fact, an S2IS. “I use that camera too” he said.
Uh huh, thought I, but then I noticed that I was standing alongside a photo booth: “Teacher Bill’s Photos”. I said, “are you Teacher Bill? Yep,” he said. “And you use this camera to take photos that you sell here? - Yep”. Cool.

We got to talking. I told him that I had been raised in Davis. Him too, as it turns out. I told him that I live in Costa Rica and have this website, Dominical.biz. He said: “of course, everyone here knows about Dominical.biz!”… all right, just kidding. That is a bit of an exaggeration. He had actually never heard of the site. But, he was interested in what I was doing with my photos. I told him that, even though I had been raised here in Davis that after leaving it 30 some years ago, and also living in a foreign land for the last 8 years, there is a large cultural contrast. We call this “cultural contrast”, those of us in this particular profession. It is this “cultural contrast” that I document via photos and writings, mental meanderings if you will.

Anyway, in talking with Teacher Bill, as is so often the case, I found myself formulating ideas that had been kind of rattling around, undefined in my head over the last few days. The contrast between Dominical / San Isidro, and Davis California, is black and white, night and day, ocean and dessert, you know, contrasty. Here in Davis, everything is all so, well, correct. Yes, that is a good word for it, “correct”.

I mentioned this to Teacher Bill the photographer, this point about “correctness” and he concurred. Davis is PC (politically correct) whereas the Dominical Costa Rica area is absolutely not. As an example of this, among my Tico friends in San Isidro and Dominical, you will hear the Spanish equivalent for the word “fat” used openly and freely. “Hey man, you look fat today”. I’ve been told that I look fat. In fact, I think that this was meant as a compliment. “Healthy” would be synonymous with “fat”.

In the Davis culture I think that, whereas F words, and S words, have lost some of their potency over the years, the Fat word, has taken on new strength, to the point where we will lie. A fat person acknowledges “I’m fat”. All those in earshot lie and say “oh no your not fat. You’re just big boned”. Fat is a bad word here in Davis California, and as I understand it, elsewhere in the States.

This is not so much to discuss “fat” as to discuss culture. It’s different. Everywhere you look there are cautionary signs about what could happen here. I guess the concern is litigation. “Careful, this tree will likely fall down and land on top of you if you choose to walk under it. Most people are known to die when a tree falls on them. Walk under this tree at your own risk.”

The grocery store here that I have mentioned in some of my other articles has a cancer warning sign as you enter it. The bike path that I used as a boy to get to junior high school has a warning alongside it for cancer.

By contrast, in San Isidro, you can be walking along on many street corners and see a jagged piece of steel sticking out of the concrete where a sign used to be. Watch out man! You could really get hurt by this thing, this jagged piece of steel sticking out of the sidewalk, if you don’t watch where you are going.

I imagine such a situation in the States, and what I imagine is a line of people, waiting their turn to get a running start at the jagged thing sticking out of the sidewalk so that they can injure themselves in some way, then sue the city, and never have to work again.

In San Isidro, or elsewhere in Costa Rica, if you were to injure yourself on such a thing, you’d likely want to hide the fact, because, “hey man, watch where you’re going”. Plus you’d miss time off work, and you’d have to pay your own medical bills.

Anyway, I am hoping that we see some postings here to Dominical.biz from Teacher Bill. I told him about the site, so we’ll see. He does some lovely photography and, he’s got a really fat camera.

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7/22/06
The value of living outside of the country of one’s birth is clearly seen when one returns to that country. It is interesting how something so familiar can be so… well… unfamiliar.

I have a custom, when travelling to the States, the country of my birth and where I spent the majority of my life until moving to Costa Rica in 1999, of going to one of the newsrooms in the first international airport that I arrive at in the States. This is usually in Houston. I like to go there to see what’s up in the US of A.

Standing back and looking at “The Wall” is what I like to do. “The Wall” is covered with magazines that have covers designed for the express purpose of getting us to pick that magazine out of the myriad of choices. You might say that this visual experience is telling the tale of what the majority of magazine buyers want to read about in the States. To appeal to the lowest common denominator? I think that for anyone visiting this country, this is the way to know what is going on, right now. I think that also it explains, to some degree, why people are pouring out of the US and into places like Costa Rica.

“The Wall” tells me what I am going to be hearing about and coming to think about during my visit to the States. I was thrown a curve ball this time though. The flipping newsroom had categorized its magazines: “Men”, “Women”, “Technology” etc…

So I adapted.

I decided to do a psychological test and see what gender was on the covers of these categorized magazines. The men’s section had mostly women. The women’s section had all women with the exception of one. Interesting. This study actually confirms what I’ve been saying all along: women are beautiful. I’ll bet your glad you’ve taken the time to read this article, eh? This is some late breaking, cutting edge stuff.

OK, well. A slight detour there. The first few times that I did this er, research, the hands down winner of the “What is Going On In The States” award went to – boobs. It seemed that no matter what the topic, boobs were featured, or strongly suggested, on the cover of the magazine. It is interesting to note that I think this is changing some. Now, there is likely someone that we recognize, some kind of celebrity thing going on.

On this trip, it would seem that the country is concerned about Jennifer Aniston and the actor that she is currently seeing, as to whether or not they are going to get married and, it is reported, she isn’t interested in getting a pre-nup. Imagine! Jen is going to risk everything… Well, we’ll see. Also there is some concern about Tom Cruise’s child, not sure what, but something’s going on there - and it could be that Jennifer and Angelina are going to get together and do what Brad fears most, whatever that may be… or so they say.

Peace in the Middle-East is big this trip, and global warming. The Peace in the Middle-East isn’t new, in fact it was hot 20 years ago, but its particularly hot right now. It’s incredibly sad how many people are dieing over there.

Global Warming is enjoying global acceptance after emerging out of the morass of debate over its actual existence. Now, it seems, everyone is in agreement that it is happening. Although looking around at the cars that people are driving around in California, mostly large, the news doesn’t seem to really matter.

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Saturday, July 22, 2006
This article is one of a series that is explained by clicking here.

This is my second day here in Gringolandia and my amazement at the wonders of the place continues on longer than I have experienced in other trips. Maybe its because of the timing of my arrival. Getting here at 2:00 AM and then getting a couple hours of sleep perhaps has extended my “just got here” state of mind, even into day 2. Whatever it is, it’s been delightful.

I went back out to The Nugget for coffee this morning on my way to dropping Mom’s car off at the Honda place. Her brakes were going bad last night in our jaunt out to Sacramento. I got to thinking that, really, the ability to make a car stop, is more important than the ability to make it go. It, the car, goes fine, but what it doesn’t do well is stop. So I took that thing out to University Honda. If one were to compare going to a mechanic’s shop in California with a mechanic’s shop in Costa Rica, well… they may as well compare with Mars. You drive into a well arranged and delineated entrance. The far left has a fellow standing at a counter helping people that need quick assistance. Stuff like oil changes and minor service. I felt that maybe our brake problem could be considered “minor” like maybe just an adjustment or some fluid or something, so I pulled in there. The guy was totally helpful and directed me to Stacy inside the office. Stacy was a bubbly professional gal that liked the fact that I had brought my roller blades to return home with. She had just gotten a new set of roller blades but her husband wouldn’t let her use them until she had the full set of pads: knee, elbow, and wrist. She said that she is a speed demon.

I had just seen the Honda car called an “Element” driving down the road, and they had one out on the lot. I think that it is one of the coolest looking cars I have ever seen. I have never seen one in Costa Rica. I asked her about the car and we got to talking. I said that I have been out of the country for the past 8 or so months and that during that time, there seems to have been a huge change in car styles going on. The Element I had seen before, but there are some extremely strange concept vehicles that have now, evidently, been put into production. Of course, California has always been this way. One big showroom floor for cars. Gazillions of ‘em.

Global warming is very much in the news, but I can’t imagine any way that they can change the system enough to make any appreciable difference when you see a highway, near a mall, in Sacramento California, at about 5:00 PM. Every stinking one of those cars, of which there are an innumerable amount, is belching out carbon dioxide faster than the Earth can assimilate it. And there is no way that you could talk these people out of it, no matter what the consequences, like total and global annihilation. Doesn’t matter.

I found it interesting that the Honda dealership provides a shuttle to town for folks that drop cars off. There are no buses, no taxis. Everyone has got their own ride. I see young men and women driving around in Cadillac and Lexus SUV’s. These cars cost boatloads of cash to buy, and some serious buckaroos to drive, but these kids drive ‘em anyway. No problem. Beautiful cars though. I saw a 4 door, super tricked, Cadillac pickup truck. I didn’t know that Cadillac made a pickup truck.

So after getting things arranged for Mom’s car, which by the way, is a ‘91 Honda Accord with about 54,000 miles on it, I set out on roller blades to the Farmer’s Market.

There was something very cool about cruising through the silky smooth streets and overpasses getting back to town. I had on my iPod and was able to really get into being alive and having the health and ability to engage in such an activity. Wendy Range, an old family friend, and now a dear personal friend - its interesting how things like this change in life. Here is one of Dad’s old buds, you know, one of the “olds” when I was growing up, and now we’re hanging together. Anyway, he had heard of what I was doing and was concerned about me taking on such an arduous task of rollerblading during a heat wave. Its supposed to get up to 109 today. I am not finding the heat a problem so far. I guess that Costa Rica has conditioned me to the heat. So he drove out to Honda to see if he could give me a ride home. We crossed paths shortly after I started my sojourn. I thanked him but told him that I was fine and that I had water in my backpack.

I think that if such a thing had happened in Costa Rica we’d go on about how friendly the Ticos are and how much they take care of each other. What do we talk about when it comes to our own kind doing such acts?

When I got to the Farmer’s Market, I cruised by the whole thing cuz I was a little bit nervous about getting there in my strange getup. I had a helmet on, wrist protectors, a backpack, and no shirt. I glid (past tense for “glide”) by on the other side of the street to observe if there were any men in the market without a shirt on, but there was not one, despite the heat. The place is shaded by a roof overhead, but nonetheless, in Latin America there would have been a number of men with no shirts on.

So I set up in an isolated area and got myself presentable. I had a shirt and my flip flops in the backpack. Keeping the iPod on, I cruised the market. I found it most agreeable that among Gringos, one can sort of create their own little world, almost like not even being there, allowing one to engage in the voyeuristic pleasure of serious people watching.

In Latin America, the people all look at each other, right into the eyes. In Gringolandia, they don’t. Just an observation, but I think that it is this that makes walking around in a crowd with an iPod on all the more interesting. All the interaction with the people in your area in Latin America would make this sort of cocooning awkward.

After tasting a salmon cake at a booth, I asked the guy if they shipped internationally and he said yes, and off we went, talking. The website is www.cedarcreeksalmon.com, but their site appears to be offline at the moment. The guy, whose name I didn’t get, has the perfect personality for the job. He’s funny and engaging and you want to buy from him. The Salmon cakes were outstanding and so I bought a couple for Mom and I to have for lunch, which we did, and they were great.

Anyway, the guy says, “man it must be weird to come back to this country after leaving it for so long” … then he went on to say something about going into a grocery store. “How did you know?’ I said, and told him about my experience yesterday of going into The Nugget, a grocery store, and getting a cup of coffee. I got a medium and it came in a paper cup, which burned my hand. I figured that I’d have to wait for it to cool down so that I could drink it, when I noticed a stack of those wonderful “Java Jackets” right there next to where I had set my cup down. Perfect. So now I can drink my coffee. I went off to get a shopping cart and began navigating, one handedly and with difficulty as I held my cup in the other hand when lo! I noticed that someone had so oh-so-thoughtfully designed a hole in the cart just perfect for my cup, effectively freeing up both hands with which to push the cart around, and still get to enjoy my coffee.

Well the salmon guy and his wife seemed to enjoy the objective perspective of his land as I concluded my account by saying: “man, you gotta love this country!”

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I think that the initial sensitivity to the States is now gone, but it was really fun this time. My first day here I almost started talking with people in the grocery store about how amazing it is, the store. Its called The Nugget, and its just a really cool place to go and hang out. They’ve got coffee of all flavors, and a buffet, and they’ve got organic deodorant and boatloads of Tea Tree oil which is oh-so important in Costa Rica, but oh-so difficult to find, and I know this is hard to believe, but this “grocery store” has… get this: an olive bar. I kid you not. Olives of all types. Some were bristling with various things like almonds and such. Its good for one to read this stuff prior to going back to the States because this way one can be prepared and not stand there in doe-eyed amazement.

It is amazing how when armed with that attitude of “this is amazingly cool” that one attracts cool stuff. I wish that I could live with the attitude of having just arrived in the States and appreciate its magic.

I was just inside the front door of the grocery when in walked this lovely woman. As is a man’s custom, I took note, and well… I just had to comment. The gal had on a beautiful black dress with white polkadots, nicely accented with a matching black, slightly floppy, sun hat. She was radiant. I stared at her, and she stared at me, I couldn’t stop… so I said: “Ma’am, you look lovely today.” to which she replied: “I turn 84 next week”. I spent a good 20 minutes learning her story.

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I am writing this at 1:30 AM on the morning that I arrived in California, the good ole US of A… wow! It always impresses me with its smooth roads, nice cars, and lots of people who think that this is the way it ought’a be - gotta-be. Wild.

I’m still in that phase shortly after I get here when the smells of the area are causing waves of melancholistic sentimentalityismness. To drive from the airport to my Mother’s house is to drive through lots of fields of Lord knows what, but it smells wicked good :o) Like sweet cut grass.

Then I get home to Mom’s and the house smells the same as before Dad died. We have our old backpacking gear here. I remember the kids fighting over who got the better of the two children’s backpacks. They’re here as well, those backpacks.

I rented a Jeep Liberty, or something like that. It is way nice. It’s a midsized SUV and it’s amazing. That’s really all that I want to say about it, just that it’s amazing. You know how it is? When you get back home and you’re driving along in a Jeep Liberty and you’ve got the windows rolled down so that you can smell the sweet, cut, whatever it is and you’re flipping through the channels on the radio and there is a channel on every decimal point on the dial, and you finally settle on one but its kinda hard cuz they’re all actually pretty good but when you do finally settle on one and “Holding Back the Years” comes on by Simply Red? That’s what makes a guy think that maybe he can just go ahead and die.

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When we first moved to Costa Rica, after a short passing of time, my family and I would start jonesing for States-like stimuli. Consequently, about once a month we would find our way to San Jose where we would walk around a mall and go see a movie. Eating fast food at the mall’s food court was therapeutic.

After some years living in Costa Rica, we look back at those times and wonder a bit at them. How could those particular activities have been a need? Now, don’t get me wrong, I love shopping. Some say I’m part woman because of my ability to enjoy a good day out looking at the latest things. I also really enjoy people watching. So, nothing against these things. But it is interesting after having lived down in Costa Rica’s southern zone for some years, to look back and wonder how visiting stores and buying things could have come to be such a symbol of our homeland.

Now it happens in reverse. I seem to allow a year or so to pass between trips to the States when I go to visit my mother in Davis California. In the first hours of arriving in the States I feel my most sensitized to the country and its peculiar ways. I am pure Gringo, having been raised there, and having spent 20 adult years there with family and in the scene. So it is a brief and passing phenomenon that occurrs when I first arrive there, and it is this state of mind that I am setting out to capture in these writings.

This visit, July of 2006, I am going to be posting impressions and observations of the States from the point of view of an expat who has immersed himself in another culture, language, and eco-system - returning to, what - home?

Relaxation - calming down - it seems to be the objective of a lot of visitors to the Dominical area. Right at about day 4 we hit critical-mass relaxation. Getting away from the cell phone, secretary, 24 hour news broadcasts, and e-mail, results in some anxiety, actual withdrawals, as we leave behind those things that cause anxiety for us. But the separation anxiety only lasts a little while. Somehow we survive and we begin to actually start thinking thoughts that originate within our own psyche.

The beaches in the Dominical to Uvita zone all have nicely spaced out palm trees, perfect for hammocks. We carry a box of beach stuff with us that has a bunch of those nylon straps that have hooks on either end with a length adjustment clasp. We get ours here at Price Smart in 4-packs. I have seen them in hardware stores in the States, as well as CostCo. These are perfect for hanging a hammock under the palm trees. Do this thing. Bring your straps with you, but you can buy a hammock on the beach. I think that they are about $20. Spend a few days there. You can read if you want. Try not reading also. Just sit. Dozing’s OK. As you pass through the various stages of withdrawals, you will gradually feel calm.

So, at day 4 you are now re-integrated with life on planet earth; what now? Well, take a look around. There are a number of things to do in Dominical. For the moment, I want to talk about one in particular, that of basket weaving. I know… “basket weaving” you say. “How ’bout we build some bird houses while we’re at it“. Well, I gotta tell ya, these are no ordinary baskets. These are works of art.

Kim is the Gran Maestra of basket weaving, and we’re not just talking Dominical.

Click Image

These are the finest baskets that I have ever seen. They are generally irregular and organic in their shape. But not awkward. They are elegant and beautifully balanced. The colors of the materials display a full earthy spectrum. Kim comments on how lovely the molds are that color the various palm fibers, almost like a patina on bronze or copper.

Kim and her husband Steve live in downtown Dominical. Their home is right on the river, and is quiet and tranquil. It is situated alongside the Baru river. A visit to their home is more like stepping into an art center than a home, although it has a distinct homey feel.

In my past life as an art dealer in the States, I witnessed the tendency of artistic types to congregate for the steel-on-steel affect of discussing, arguing, and debating the various ideologies with respect to art. I enjoy the stories of the artists in Paris and Spain, where they would get together at salons to drink coffee and stimulate each other with such sessions so that they could then go back to their studios to paint, sculpt, and construct to new heights.

So - basket weaving in Dominical. You are welcomed into an open air studio alongside the Baru that is perhaps 200 meters from where it dumps into the Pacific Ocean. There are beautiful tropical flora all around and the chirruping of the toucans can be heard outside up in the trees. Take a look around at the baskets, lamps, and various vessels scattered about the studio and you’ll know that you are in for an artistic experience.

Kim offers personalized instruction to each member of the class. She discusses warps, wefts, and weavers, but kindly doesn’t expect us to know right off what the heck she’s talking about. After awhile the vocabulary starts to make a little sense. In fact, this writer now knows that if you weave a thing with the warp and the weft of equal widths and weight, you can make a place mat. If you bow the warp material out and then back in from its origin, and weft it with twisted or flat organic fibers, you can make a basket suitable for holding stuff. Impressive verdad?

I actually did not take the class. I just heard about it and so went and visited with my camera. Socially it was cool since there were a number of folks there who were visitors to the area. Finca Ipe, a nearby organic, biodynamic, permaculture, farm, provided the majority of the weavers. The colors and forms that took shape while I was there were a delight for the eye. The classes cost $25.00 (at this writing) and include lunch.

So, when you get to that critical-mass relaxation point, and want something to do with your new-found outlook on life, why not weave a basket.

Oh, and by the way. Steve & Kim have rooms for rent as well.
Click here to see their page.

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The holy ground in front of the Tinamastes Church

I have incurred several thousand dollars worth of car repairs over the last year. If one were to link that line with the title of this post, they might get to thinking that these expenses are due to the potholes. Welll… maybe indirectly. Directly, I just paid about $500 to have my balljoints and stuff fixed underneath my Montero. The “indirect” way is the fact that I refuse to buy a new car here, since the place is so #$%$@ hard on cars. Consequently I have older cars (’94 & ‘95) for getting from my home in San Isidro to my work in Dominical, and out showing properties in the jungle, so the cars are 4 wheel drive. Older cars seem to need constant maintenance, so I may be re-thinking my whole approach to this topic. I have actually been without any car on occassion, despite the fact that I’ve got this “back-up” arrangement.

Anyway, you may have heard that the roads are BAD in Costa Rica. And well… its true. What happens here in Costa Rica when things get to this level of road degredation, is that the people who support their families by driving the roads of Costa Rica, take matters into their own hands. The do a thing called a “huelga” which translates out to “boycott”. To do a huelga, they simply block traffic by blocking some of the one lane bridges around the country. This is highly effective since it shuts the country down.

This remedy was recently applied in the Dominical area. The road between San Isidro and Dominical is horrendisimo. It is a truly teeth rattling ride. I’ll take a bad dirt road anyday, over a bad paved road. The potholes on the bad paved roads have sharp edges that can wreck your rims.

So they blocked the Baru bridge. This is the bridge that is down on the flats prior to getting to the coastal highway. It is one lane and was blocked by someone, presumably someone with heavy equipment, who dumped several loads of sand, dirt, and rock on both sides of the bridge. Now, I’m not accusing anybody, but there IS a heavy machinery place right there near the bridge… Anyway, the action was supported far and wide. Even by those sitting there stopped - wondering if the bridge was going to be open any time soon.

The huelga appears to have had a good effect. Some of the major, silly-bad, pothole areas of the road have now been fixed. This is both a blessing and a curse since what I do is, I get to driving normal over the repaired parts and get my speed up to where when I get to an unrepaired part of the road, I really slam into the next sneaky pothole.

So, the current status of the road is that it is partially repaired. The holy ground in front of the church in Tinamastes, is fixed. Also, that part that is in front of the new thatched restaurant and fruit stand about 12 minutes the Dominical side of San Isidro is also fixed, as well as a smattering of other areas.

Just don’t let you guard down when enjoying these parts yet

Add your 2 cents to this topic in the forum –>

Costa Rica has become a haven for many people that desire to live outside of their own country and enjoy a quieter and slower life style. Not everyone who moves to Costa Rica is independently wealthy. A large number of those that relocate to here must look for some way to support themselves. So the question gets asked in typical Jerry Seinfeld tradition: “what is the deal with living and working in Costa Rica?”

There are some changes going on in laws pertaining to residency here in Costa Rica. These laws are directed at keeping those not worthy from working here. They in no way affect visitors and tourists to the country, as these are welcomed with open arms by Costa Rica.

A new law was approved last November that will now penalize the companies that employ illegal immigrants. This will be felt by a large number of expatriots that are living and working here. This is largely due to the fact that it has been relatively easy to do so up until now without getting the official documents necessary to do so legally.

What a bunch of those that live here have done, some for years, is to take advantage of a provision in the law that allows for leaving the country for 72 hours, then re-entering Costa Rica for another 3 months. That this practice is common is well illustrated by a recent experience I had when crossing over into Panama for a visit. There are a number of young men that help with the various tasks involved with getting oneself and a car across the border. They all mention that we, being gringos, are likely going to Panama for 3 days to renew our passports. They see it everyday. This is called “perpetual tourism”. The government frowns on this, but has found it difficult to regulate it.

This new law, which is really just a strengthening of exisiting laws, gives the governmental agencies the ability to raid businesses and review documents, both of workers, and also of the payrolls.

So, I think that we’ll be seeing a mad dash for the Immigration Office. Getting residency is not for the faint-of-heart.

I usually stay on the beach when I spend the night in Dominical. A friend has a cabina there that I use. Waking up to the sound of the waves is nice, and so is walking along the beach first thing in the morning as I head towards work, but the thing that makes this type of day-start so delightful, is the fact that I get to wake up in the time-warp that is Dominical.

Walking along the roads of Dominical at 6:30 A.M. is like stepping back to small-town USA. There is not a soul that doesn’t greet you. If you’ve been around awhile you’ll recognize people’s dogs. One gal was out on her front porch breaking into a ceramic piggy bank. She looked up and gave me a gorgeous Tica smile. I smiled back and called her a “ladrona” (feminine thief) to which she smiled more and said that it was OK since it was her sister’s.

Banana Bread Mike drives past and waves good morning, Brendan the real estate/construction guy is strolling to the beach to check out the waves with cup number one for the day: “mornin’ Ben”. Unknowns drive by and wave.

The country living Ticos have a greeting that they share that goes something like this “aOP!” - kinda rhymes with “soap” I’m not sure, but I think that it might come from the use of “adios”. When you are walking the opposite direction from someone, and as you pass you can say this, “adios”, which seems to be “hello” and “goodbye” in one. Sometimes you just hear “dios”, and sometime just “ose”, and so I theorize that maybe this “aOP!” is derivative somehow.

Anyway, I got a couple “aOP’s” this morning as well, and the whole thing just put me in a good mood. By the time I arrived at my office and said “Buenos dias” to Erick the cab driver, I had this stupid grin on my face from just the sheer joy of it all. So Erick, who can’t let an opportunity to greet and joke pass by without taking full advantage of it asked me, “por que tan cansado?”, or “why do you look so tired this AM?”. I just had to laugh. The daily ritual of starting the day is just oh-so pleasant.

We all have different reasons for moving here. As the years have gone by, I don’t know that I have been able to focus on the “why” of it all so much. But, as I walk through town first thing in the morning, I am reminded of a hope that I had in moving here. I had hoped that maybe it would slow things down a bit. I think about sitting around the wood stove at the general store in the heart of an early America town, getting caught up on the latest gossip, and neighbors that know each other and care what goes on, perhaps sometimes a little too much, but that’s the price you pay.

I’m as private as the next guy, maybe even a little more so than the average Joe, but I gotta say, I sure like knowing and being known as I walk along the road.