Story of the Day 5/ 13/ 2014

My mother has been visiting. She lives in Brooklyn which is part of another country.
It is a country of cement and tall buildings and lots of accents. Accents that are not simply country twangs.
And while she has been here, we have been doing things that are exotic to her

This morning, we drove to visit my cousin, Kathy.
Kathy is the daughter of my mom's cousin, who died a number of years ago.
Kathy lives in a group residence and , when I visit, always has a list of things that she needs to get.
When I go, I take her out, we get the things on her list, and we have lunch out at a restaurant of her choosing.
Of course, she always chooses the same place.
Subway.
She chooses this after naming other places she would like to go.
naming the places, and then deciding on Subway means , obviously, that sit is a considered choice.
She also always has exactly the same sandwich with the same chips and the same drink.
After looking at the choices.

Kathy lives in a small town where there are about a dozen restaurants, but there is only one store that sells clothing and shoes is the WalMart.
As a result, that is where we tend to go.
I am not a huge fan of the corporation, but it does let us buy her things like bras and sneakers without having to drive to another city.

My mother hadn't seen Kathy in years.
This is what happens. Everyone started out in Ohio, and then scattered, and it is almost an accident that Kathy and I live in the same state.
Forty years ago, some of my aunts and uncles attend college in Indiana, but they have long since left.
On my mom's side of the family, Kathy and I are the only Hoosiers.

My mother grew up in the midwest- in Ohio.
She attended college there and spent the years that she was married to my father in a mid-sized Midwestern city.
Mid-sized by midwestern standards.
Where she now lives , it would be a rather small suburb.

And Indiana is a very different place than where she now lives- where she has lived for many years.
The 4 bedroom 2 1/2 bathroom homes on half acre lots in my neighborhood sell for substantially less than the very cramped ,2 bedroom apartments in hers.
Our cars sprawl in our driveway.
And we can go to sleep with our windows open, unlocked, unalarmed.
Well, we could , if it wasn't raining.
We have a large garden. An area for vegetables, and several beds of flowers, a pear tree, and ...well, no partridge, but we do have a bird box on the post by the patio.
My mother's garden is on her third floor fire-escape.

So, to my mother, who lives in Brooklyn, ours is an exotic land.

And we have been doing really exotic things, like driving to the small town in which Kathy lives, and going to Wal-Mart.

I had no idea that Wal-Mart was considered exotic.
I mean, they have them in Binghamton, and Syracse and Rochester, and all of those are in New York....but those are "upstate" New York, and my mother, who spent a week at a minority caucus in her state's capitol, told me of people from " the city" who rented cars and drove off to visit Wal-Mart on this rare chance that they had, while in upstate New York.

So, while Kathy's list was small, my mother did an extra tour of the place- remarking on the inexpensive bed linens, and the dinner plates, and the soap dispensers.

But, in the end, she did her real shopping at the dollar store.
A soap dispenser.
For a dollar.
An unbelievable bargain in the country from which she hails.