SHEs Organized

What will you do with the surprise fabric you discovered, Harriet?

Multi-generational friendships are so special, and that is one of the joys of living in a small town. The friend I had to call to correct with news tonight was my dmom's best friend growing up, and now one of my dearest friends. Their mothers were friends, my brother graduated with one of her sons, and I taught her children in school. (BTW, her brother was a friend of dh.)
The Dfriend I have spoken of who recently had heart surgery is similar -- our grandmothers worked together and became friends, our mothers were dfriends, she and I were only a year apart in school, and our brothers are the same age, approximately 10 years younger than us. Of course, now she and I live in different states, but cell phones and text messages keep us in touch.
The two friends I have eaten lunch with recently are also lifetime friends, and our family connections go back generations (of course, one IS family; our grandmothers were sisters).

I do feel blessed to live in a small town like this. Today at the post office, the first lady I spoke of was complaining with me about so many shortcomings in our town. I said, "I love this town, but it IS a crazy town." We have lost our hospital, you know, and a few years ago, they tore down the old theater which many of us hoped to see restored. We've lost several buildings to a major fire a few years ago, and a few more have been torn down recently because they were abandoned and falling into disrepair. It's sad, and we see other towns that really revitalize their downtown areas, but we just don't see that happening here. We do have a new mayor, who will take office in a few months. He is a young man, ds' age, and I am interested to see what might happen with him and the few new council members who were elected also.

Talking about the new church your boys were baptized in together -- one of the oddest things for me -- I guess a happy coincidence -- is that the Dfriend who encouraged me to come back to Sunday School is the son of one of my dad's best friends. They grew up in a neighboring town and both married women from our town, but the son and I attended different school. Neither of us grew up in the Methodist church, but somehow we have ended up together in church now.

Well... here it is 1:00 a.m. and here I am watching High Chaparral. I am turning into my mother. I am about to Google, "What happened to Mark's mother on The Rifleman."