Last night I was out front showing off our Christmas lights to my son when in the distance we heard singing and laughing and happy squealing. I immediately knew what it was.
As the carolers turned the corner to come down our street I couldn’t help but smile, even though it was too dark for them to see me doing it. As they passed by, I grabbed the camera and shot some (not so very good) footage of them.
On their way by, a group of kids ran up to give us an invitation to the neighborhood Christmas party.
I recognized one of them and we chatted for a minute before they skipped down the driveway, calling out “Merry Christmas!” to us and went on their way to the next house.
I know small town living isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but I absolutely love it! I’m especially looking forward to going on the annual horse and trolley ride…
And to the ice palace just up the road…
There are just some things about living this way that brings peace to my soul, especially this time of year.
Especially here in Idaho, where we live now. Idaho is one of the least populated states with miles and miles of wilderness and plenty of room to stretch out. At Christmas time it feels like we’re in a quaint scene from an old fashioned snow globe.
Growing up in central California (shh, don’t tell my neighbors!) I got a taste of what life in the big city was like. We used to spend a lot of time in the bay area and at one point I actually dreamed of living in a condo in San Francisco with a view of the Golden Gate bridge!
I can’t imagine living there or in any other city. Let alone in California, which I left in my early twenties (thank you Lord!). Even though both my husband and I were born and raised there, as soon as we possibly could, we moved to live with my Dad who had retired from the Navy and went back to live in his home state of Wyoming.
I’ll never forget that first few days of culture shock when we got to his place. There were no locks on the doors! He left his keys in the car! Everyone waved a friendly wave at us!
What the… 😮
It was surreal. Most of my Dad’s friends and neighbors were actual cowboys and cowgirls, figures I had only seen in the movies and in books. They’d take us along with them and taught us how to ride and hunt. Every year we would root for them at the local rodeo.
The neighbors all knew one another and stopped to chat outside the post office every afternoon or in the aisles of the grocery store. Folks would pull over to ask if you were okay if they saw you on the side of the road.
It felt like people really cared, because they did.
At Christmas time my Dad would play Santa and we’d go to the annual Christmas town party at the local community hall.
There’s just something about these small town experiences that I don’t believe you can find in the city and even though they like to make fun of us and call this “fly over country”, we know deep down it’s born out of jealousy.
They can keep flying past… 😉