life in a small town ii

Living in a small city is sometimes a chore and at other times a delight. Take tonight for instance. I phoned the Avon lady to place an order. (Before you judge me too harshly for ordering Avon, I order small amounts infrequently. This Avon lady is so nice I feel obliged to order occasionally to acknowledge her niceness. Thus my order tonight.)

So I phoned up and our conversation roamed over religion, mosquitos, the Koran, airport travel, euthanasia, living sustainably and donating to charity - and that was before we even made it to the order. I confess I slipped into an old habit of offering well timed 'aha's as I cruised around the internet. I don't know how long she we talked for in the end, but it was over half an hour. Somewhere in there I believe we completed the order correctly!

It's like that here. Some of my best friends are shop keepers. If you return to the same homey specialty store over and over again to fulfill the endless requirements for life's little essentials (since I am trying to avoid money hungry corporations I find myself more and more often in these homey stores) quality, personal service comes with a gentle progression of relationship. First all is politely professional. Then a hello with a hint of recognition siddles its way in. This progresses to remembering first names and asking how one is (an exchange no doubt aided by repeatedly seeing a name on the oft presented credit card). The final stage of the cash register friendship is intimate conversation over the fruit and vegetables or meat or carefully selected gift. I have attained this level of relationship with the green grocers, butcher, beautician, Oxfam manager, grain grocer, second hand bookshop proprieter, restauranteur and purveyor of fine gifts. With friends like these, who needs real friends?!

Truly, life on a small island is charmed. Naturally contained by the ever-so-close shores but none-the-less charmed. And this new relationship with the Avon lady? So it skipped a step or two, but really? It makes me chuckle and feel happy to live in a small place where people still care and have time to be friendly. Very friendly.

ah tasmania!

I'm on a roll now - really getting into this 'love Tasmania' thing!

On the day I discovered a host of bike tracks I also discovered a small market. It's held every Saturday in a little square in the centre of town... and because I never visit this square I never knew about the market.

Admittedly it was a small market with just a couple of stalls, but as I was entering and exiting a shop, the proprietor of one of the stalls called out a cheery 'hello, how are you?' to me. As I went in and as I went out! On the way out I sheepishly checked out his stall - I felt kind of obliged, after he'd been so friendly to me.

And there I discovered a wealth of homemade goodies. Beetroot and Apple Chutney, Raspberry Jam, Garlic Sauce... and I got to sample some of them! I happily munched away, feeling even more obliged, so I bought some of the Garlic Sauce - it really was yummy.

As I turned to walk away the gentleman called out 'don't forget the recipe' that was a complimentary accompaniment to the sauce. I stuffed it in my purse with thanks, and hurried on to my next stop.

When I got home I pulled out the recipe and read it:

Marinate chicken in garlic sauce (add pinch of bi-carb)
stir fry onion or vege to your taste
Add chicken and garlic sauce to your Taste
Stir fry together

I had to laugh! I reckon I could probably have figured that out for myself without too much trouble! They were so well meaning in ensuring I had this recipe that I nearly forgot to take... and it was hardly a recipe at all! Very sweet, very kind, very cute.

You've got to love Tasmanians. They have big hearts and friendly souls.