Archives in Category: Small Town Life

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Trick or Treat

Halloween is four days away, and usually I avoid it like the plague. Earl and I darken our house and go out to a leisurely dinner somewhere until the proscribed time for Trick or Treat is over. Then we skulk

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Corn Maze

Farmers around here extend the growing season by creating corn mazes in their fields and charging admission to city folk like me to enter them, wend their way around the various paths while avoiding dead ends, and come out the

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Baumgartner’s

There are probably not a lot of people out there who can say they drove 350 miles for a liver sausage sandwich, but Earl and I are proud to be among them. After all, the sandwich, which comes on rye

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Fresh Food

Last month I joined a food coop. So every Wednesday I go to the pick-up point and get my fruits and vegetables from Oak Hill Farms. Oak Hill sells only what it grows, which means the produce is picked within

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Spoiled

If the Midwest is called the breadbasket of the country for its wheat fields and other farming staples, then southwestern Michigan should be called the fruit and vegetable stand. From May through October, little stands sprout all over the county,

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Wal-Mart in the Morning

“Want to go to Wal-Mart with me?” Earl whispered in my ear as I tried to catch a few more zzzzzzzz. The look on my face must have required additional explanation.
“I have to pick up a few things,

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Martin’s

We just returned from Martin’s, our favorite supermarket around here. It’s almost a daily ritual to pick up a few things that fit in our cloth grocery sack. In fact, the sack has the Martin’s logo on it and gets

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Bird Fight

The builder of our new condo stopped by today with a worried look on his face. I answered the bell and stepped outside to chat in the bright afternoon sun. He hemmed and hawed and finally came to the point.

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Hardware Stores

Since we’re getting ready to move again, I’ve begun to haunt hardware stores. Maybe ‘haunt’ isn’t the right word, since I definitely am visible to the clerks and cashiers and certainly don’t wail and whine. Instead, I walk the aisles

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At the Cove

Earl and I spent the afternoon in a charming minor league baseball stadium where the Silverhawks, the team we rooted for, lost by one run in the bottom of the ninth. As far as I know, this loss could mean

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