I love life in a small town.

We have our divisions and culture wars, but we also have hung on to our sense of community.

Maria and I went to the bank this morning, she was hauling a heavy bag of the coins we rolled to pay for our upcoming vacation motel room (four days)  in late April.

One of the cashiers said she was waiting for us to come in.

She saw my blog post about it. We ended up with $100 less than we thought, we counted the calls incorrectly. But that won’t make much of a difference.

We’ve already reserved and paid for the rooms, and we can pay that charge off right away.

The cashiers in the bank are wonderful – friendly, efficient, cheerful – and Maria enjoys talking with them so much she often wants to go into the bank to see them rather than use the drive-in. They are all rabid plant collectors.

They are friends as well.

And rabid animal lovers. When our receipts and envelopes come back from the bank, there are almost always dog treats. When somebody has a baby or gets married, we bring gifts

It is fun to go to the bank here, it feels like visiting family more than visiting a bank. Community is so important. The sense of being known, and being connected.

Being a neighbor matter here.

We are lucky to have this. The cashiers said they were glad to have more change in their drawers, they had a machine to count it.

They were all excited about our vacation.