Slim Randles' Home Country
A walk around town, giving thanks
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good to just walk around slowly and quietly and look and think. This
morning was one of those times. I didn't get mildly out of breath
the way Doc wanted me to, but just strolled comfortably.
There was what we still call the old drugstore, there in faded brick
solidity on the corner. The new drugstore is made mostly of glass
and is three blocks down these days. The old drugstore has become a
meeting place and rehearsal hall for our local actors, and is also a
place where members of the PTA take turns tutoring children after
school. Not a bad job for a grand old building.
And here comes
Mrs. Sandiford. She's bent over pretty badly these days, but she
looks up at me with effort and smiles a good morning. Two years ago
we knew she wasn't going to survive that stroke, but here she is,
still smiling and still taking care of her two cats, Boots and
There's old Billy, asleep in the street again. He was Stewart
Simpson's dog until Stew passed on, and now Billy belongs to all of
us. We haven't had a town dog since Sally died in her sleep on Doc's
front porch, you know, so now Billy has picked up the slack. We all
feed him and pet him, and he has quite smoothly made the transition
from one-man dog to one-town dog. He greets each of the children in
the mornings down at the school, just to make them feel good about
themselves. A worthwhile job.
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Old Martin, the crossing guard, stops the traffic for Billy now,
as well as for the kids. How Martin can make it out there, year
after year, in all that weather, just to get those kids safely
across the street, is a mystery. He's a special guy.
That new young couple just parked the car over by the dress shop
and got out. They have that new baby of theirs in one of those tummy
sling things. You can zip a parka right around those babies, you
know. Keeps everyone warm and feeling loved.
As for me, I just like to think of Thanksgiving and the treasures
life has given us.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
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