Why I Love a Small Town

I do love a small, North Mississippi town. As much as Greenwood drives me absolutely insane at times, I frequently have my little moments of Zen that make me glad I live here.

Last night, for instance, at the Chamber's Business After Hours, I was informed that my friend Rachel Hodge, who works at the Commonwealth, had quit! She had gotten so stressed out that she had been admitted to the hospital and resigned. I assured the misinformed person that Rachel was indeed alive and well and still gainfully employed as Lifestyles Editor, and that the person had fallen prey to the Greenwood Rumor Mill. I then told her that the Informant probably had Rachel confused with me, since I did make a trip to the ER for random chest pain/acid reflux issues right around the time of my Commonwealth departure. You can chide Tim the next time you see him, since this editor in chief apparently drove me to a frazzled journalistic end. At least we can all rest assured my skilz will stay razor sharp through waxing poetic here at the Delta Dirt.

Last week, my boyfriend of five months informed me that several townsfolk had told him he was ring shopping for Christmas! Thanks for letting us know! Maybe tomorrow someone will tell me which church I'm not booking.

But on a positive note -- I stopped in this morning, shortly after the hour of 8 o'clock, to grab a delicious, homemade blueberry-peach muffin -- made by Donald of Mockingbird Bakery fame -- and a fabulous latte at Turnrow Book Co. I am so thankful to Turnrow for now opening at this early hour, providing me a place to peruse briefly in the mornings while treating myself to expensive, snob coffee. I do this every now and then when I need to clear my head or chat with a friendly face. This morning my friendly face was book store proprietor Jamie Kornegay, who reminded me that he was indeed going to get the authors of "Must See Mississippi" to sign a copy for my dad's Christmas present the next time they came in.

And that's what I love about a small town. People who remember your name and your face and care about who you are and what you're doing -- even if some of them think they know way too much about who you are and what you're doing.