The last time I lived in my hometown was in 1994, the year I went away to college. 'Went away' might be too liberal of a phrase because Bowling Green State University was only a 45 minute drive away from my parents' house. But, nevertheless, I lived there for 4 years and then moved to Cincinnati after graduation in 1998. So for 18 years, when I have met someone new and have been asked where I am from, I have always said 'Ottawa Ohio.' But the fact is I am not from Ottawa. I grew up in an even smaller town called Glandorf. I've found some people have at least seen the sign next to Interstate 75 that points them 25 or so miles west to Ottawa. (Ottawa is Glandorf's next door neighbor and is where Wal-Mart, McDonalds, Wendys, Arbys, Subway and Pizza Hut are. I don't think I left anything out.) Others, familiar with the small towns that make up the landscape between Lima and Toledo, know generally where it is but have still not heard of Glandorf. I guess it's just easier on the conversation than trying to describe which dot on the map in the cornfields of Ohio Glandorf is. Kind of like telling people I live in Cincinnati rather than West Chester, the suburb we live in. The difference being West Chester's population is 60,958 and Glandorf's is 958. (Ottawa's population is 4,396 and Cincinnati's is just under 297,000 so it's not like everyone I meet has even heard of Ottawa but you get my point).
Either way, I know where I come from and am glad we can visit here for days in a row so my girls know it too. Songs about small towns are written for a reason. They are mostly country songs, but they generally paint a pretty good picture of the area I grew up in. Songs about sittin' on your porch with a beer watching the sun set over the fields nail it. Songs about a dirt road and some bottles rollin' on the floor boards capture more than a few of my high school memories. For the record, I have never been on anyone's big green tractor nor have I been asked if I thought said tractor was sexy. :) Don't get me wrong, I love living in a metropolitan area and often wonder, aside from being closer to my family, if I would even like to move back. (Remember? The nearest Target is over an hour's drive away!) But I fully appreciate the charm of the small towns when I am here or am sitting in traffic in Cincinnati listening to those country songs on the radio.
Missing my Jazzercise class, I went for a walk/run through the town of Glandorf this morning. I walked the length of town listening to Dave Matthews on my iPhone and stopped to take some pictures and smell the roses so to speak. What I love most about blogging is I have become more aware of moments, however large or small or ordinary or extraordinary; wanting to capture them more often than before. Maybe I am romanticizing the small town life some here, or maybe it's the perspective you get from living some place more urban for so long. But as I walked through this town that doesn't have a single stop light and the only traffic jam is when you get stuck behind a John Deere on a road with no lines, I found myself calmer and breathing deeper. I
really started breathing deeper when I began to run on the path around the park. By the time I got there I was feeling very inspired by the quaint charm that comes from the absence of urban sprawl and the calming presence of the big Catholic church where I have received every sacrament. So I turned the music from Dave to Zac Brown Band and began my run. Quaint, calming charm turned into red-faced gasping as I don't often run for exercise. It became quite obvious that I am not in as good of shape as I thought I was, because it felt like I was pulling a pallet of bricks behind me as I ran. In all honesty, it was probably more like a pallet of ice cream and Miller Lites, and that brings home the reason I am not in the ideal shape I'd like to be in. But I did find some items along the paved path that I paused (very briefly) to snap a picture of. Little things that all help add up to make my hometown. A small town with big impact. For me anyways.
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The gem of Glandorf: St. John's Catholic Church
(someday I'll post take pictures of the inside of the church and you will understand why it is such a gem, but I need a better camera for that) |
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| This is the K thru 8 school that I went to with the exact same playgroud equipment still there! |
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| Evidence of the town's German heritage |
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| No doubt, farming is a way of life for a lot of folks here |
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| I still don't know why the local watering hole and pizza place is named the Bomb Shelter |
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| Main Street is a compliment of houses, family businesses and fields |
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| Just had to take a pictre of the barber shop |
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| The park still has the same red twisty slide and merry-go-round that were there when I was a kid |
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| The new path around the park now has excercise equipment to humor you (that's an old tractor seat you sit on for your presses) |
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| I thought these were hilarious! |
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| Also there was a fence you where you can get in some resistance work with varying weights! |
While we're talking of small town characteristics, I was nearly bowled over Saturday when mom and I went to the local grocery store in Ottawa after we arrived in from Cincinnati. (okay, West Chester) My mom works at Kohls Market in the bakery and, yes, that comes with some pretty tasty perks for us :) At the checkout we wheeled the cart up to the register and the lady begins to type in every single item's price. Manually. With her fingers. Not a scanner in sight. Then she got on the intercom and called for carryout register one. I looked quick and she meant for us! I took out my iPhone, flipped it to silent and inconspicuously started to take some pictures of it all. This experience was not foreign to me, because this was how groceries were rung up at this very grocery store when I was growing up. I had no idea they still did this, though! I'm told that the owner wants to keep the experience more personal for the shopper. I say, 'great idea!' Everyone in line was waiting patiently as the cashier flipped each item around, finding the sticker that had been placed on by a human hand with a sticker gun. I have to say, though, I have been carrying out and even bagging my own groceries for too long, most times with two kids in tow, and I felt very uncomfortable having the young gentlemen cart the bags to the car. I resisted the urge to push him aside and assure him that we could handle our own groceries as I watched him and my mom chat up about the weather. And I couldn't make eye contact with him afterwards because I felt slightly awkward that I didn't tip him for his service. My mom laughed at me and shook her head. Yeah, it's good to come home and see that things don't change. I'd probably stop staying for such long visits if I had to ever (and I mean EVER) wait at a traffic light in Glandorf, Ohio.
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| Entering the price for every item by hand |
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| Not a scanner in sight |
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Groceries delivered to your car (and stowed nicely)
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The best thing about these small towns is seeing family, though! :)
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| Casey lounging in the baby pool |
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| Emily enjoying some pudding (or a facial scrub. not quite sure) |
