Thankful Weekend

As I sit down to write on this chilly Sunday evening, I feel like I’m living out a Hallmark movie. Really, the only missing element is finding the love of my life in my new hometown. Who knows? Maybe that is in next week’s script.

My Thanksgiving weekend started with serving the community meal at the local cafe. The owners generously donate the meal every year as kind of a gift to the town. And it’s not just for those in need. People from all walks of life attend, and reservations are required because it fills up. There’s an option to donate to the town’s food bank at the event, and many came prepared with checks and cash to drop in the box.

I had met one of the owners a month or so ago, and she invited me to attend either by volunteering or just coming to dine. Of course, the volunteering option was more attractive to me. Not only would I have an opportunity to meet community members, but I’d still get to eat afterward.

I was assigned to the soup and dessert crew. We quickly bonded and took our roles of ladling, plate prepping, and serving. Once all of the soup was delivered, we headed to the dessert station. This was even more fun because the pie case was located in the center of the cafe where I could chat with people seated at the counter. And who isn’t happy when they’re eating pie? I also provided some entertainment as I got accustomed to the professional whip cream dispenser. Let’s say it was a little more powerful than the grocery store cans. Fortunately, I had my commemorative apron to save my outfit from certain disaster.

After three seatings of more than 200 people, we volunteers went to the kitchen to serve our own plates. I quickly understood why this was a “reservations only” event. It was probably the best turkey dinner I had ever eaten, and I would really like to get my hands on their sweet potato recipe!

Less than three hours later, I joined my neighbors to further stuff myself. It was a quiet gathering, just four of us, which was perfect after the busy day. My dear neighbor thoughtfully made a gluten-free pumpkin pie for me. Delightful!

On Friday and Saturday, I worked in my friend’s shop. Most of Friday was spent preparing for Shop Small Saturday. We worked like elves, stocking the shelves and packing up bulk candy. Shop Small was sponsored by the chamber, which had created a Bingo card to get people around to the different stores. We offered chili, chips, and cookies to the customers along with wine and coffee. As people entered the store, we had them draw a ticket for an additional discount.  A local author came and planted herself on the sofa to sell her cozy mystery books, including her latest which was Christmas-themed and set in a fictionalized version of our town. It all certainly made for a festive atmosphere.

After my shift on Saturday, I headed to the main street in town to take in the decorations and lights. It was fun to recollect the big decorating party from a week earlier and see my contributions. The town is rather enchanting, all lit up like that. I thought about the fudge that I had sampled in the kitchen store last Saturday and decided that I needed to reward myself. Needless to say, I don’t think I ever need to make my own fudge again. Theirs is absolutely perfect! This could become a bad habit.

The Christmas magic continued after church this morning. I went down to the hall for coffee and donuts and saw a woman at a table with boxes of ornaments. I introduced myself and asked about her plan. Her mission was to get everyone in the hall to put at least one ornament on the tree. It was brilliant. My friend and I jumped in to help by bringing ornaments around to the tables. It was such a simple but effective way to get people involved and build community.

On my way home, I stopped to grab a salad at a restaurant and took a moment to check out the Christmas trees for sale outside. There must have been at least a dozen varieties, some I had never even seen in my native Washington. A man started telling me the story of the older gentleman who is the longtime owner the nursery. He was so enthusiastic that I was sure he was in charge of the tree sales. A few minutes later, when I went inside to buy my salad, he came in to pay for his tree.  He was just a happy customer, not the tree salesman.

My last stop before heading home was the grocery store. After grabbing some veggies, I ran into an acquaintance. We chatted right between the produce department and the bakery for more than half an hour. By the time we parted, I felt like we had advanced from acquaintances to friends.

I can’t wait to see where the small-town Christmas magic takes me in the month ahead. Already, I’ve been invited to more parties and events than ever before. And I have to decide just which one of those trees to bring home for my first Montana Christmas.

Getting in the Spirit

One of the things that drew me to my new hometown was that they celebrate Christmas in a big way. Yes, I am one of those people who absolutely loves Christmas, and I have been anticipating “Elf Day” since I signed the papers on my house back in June.

What exactly is “Elf Day?” Everyone in town is invited to just show up at 8:00 to do their part to transform our town into a Christmas village. There are no age restrictions, no need to sign up ahead of time; you just make your way to the local inn where everyone gathers for instructions, followed by a group photo.

After the photo, I turned to the couple standing beside me and asked, “So where do I go?”

They replied, “Is this your first time? Come with us. We are putting bows on the trees along the bay.” We proceeded to introduce ourselves and chatted as we walked up to the trees.

We had all just been instructed on proper bow hanging, so I felt up to the task. There were maybe fifty trees wired up to the railing along the bay. Our instructions were to put five bows on each tree. In theory, it was an easy task, but it became a bit challenging as our fingers began to freeze. Our work ended quickly, though, as several other elves wandered our way to help.

All of this isn’t just Christmas magic, though. Clearly, there is a sizeable crew of people who work behind the scenes to put this in motion. Last weekend, a friend and I joined the group that was checking bins and making sure light strings were functioning. We then properly gathered up each string to make short work for the elves. Another group was busily tying bows, oodles of red bows!

Earlier in the week, fresh evergreen trees had been wired up all over town. This is where the bows came in. And evergreen garlands were set out in front of the shops this morning. I’m sure there are other details involved that I’ll learn about with time. Clearly, this is a well-orchestrated event.

After heading back to the fire pit to warm up from hanging bows—it was in the twenties— I asked one of the head elves where to go next. She sent me to a building that was missing its bin of lights. They had gathered up some spares and needed help getting the garlands strung. Two fellow elves started at one end while the building owner and I took the other. We got acquainted and began talking about my recent relocation to Montana. His smiling response was, “Good move.” I agreed.

After figuring out our plan for the lighted garlands, a couple of men with ladders appeared to help hang them. They were a jovial pair, obviously enjoying the privilege of being ladder guys.

All throughout town, everyone was pitching in to help where they were needed. It was really quite a production requiring a couple of lifts, numerous ladders, and I’d guess over a hundred elves. There were people with tools and extra hooks, and there was even a volunteer in a golf cart offering hot cocoa and coffee. It was heartwarming to see the community spirit in action.

By the time we had finished our task, I had befriended one of my fellow elves. She and I made our way back to the inn where yet another group of volunteers was serving chili. While I was busy buying a t-shirt, my new friend started chatting with an acquaintance of mine, and another friendship began to blossom. A bit of Christmas magic was touching our little town. And I have no doubt that this was a good move.

 

Just Being Neighborly

One of the things I was looking for when I decided to move to a small town was a sense of community. I knew the town offered several events throughout the year which was certainly attractive. Along with that, I wanted to get to know my neighbors and feel like I was part of something.

Last week, my neighborhood had our annual homeowners’ meeting. I had a vested interest in making sure that we got a quorum since that had always been a struggle at the condo where I had most recently lived. When my friend called to ask if I was planning on attending the meeting, I confirmed that I would be there and offered to knock on doors, if needed, to remind people to attend.

Ten minutes later, the HOA president was at my door with proxy forms in hand. Well, I certainly was committed then. She gave me the run-down regarding some of the neighborhood issues, and we strategized my door-knocking plan since I wouldn’t be able to get to every single resident in one afternoon.

I headed out the next day around 4:00 PM and was pleasantly surprised by how welcoming everyone was. I do believe that every single person who was at home answered the door. Some of them assured me that they would be at the meeting, others had already given proxies to a trusted neighbor, and a few of them even invited me in. Everyone was at least cordial, and most were downright friendly. Such a great way to get acquainted with my neighbors!

The next night it was fun to see so many familiar faces at the meeting, more than I would have if I hadn’t gone knocking. And we barely made the quorum. That little extra effort was more than worth it.

Sometimes You Just Have to Ask

Yesterday I had some good luck with Craigslist. Well actually, mixed luck. I did make a run to go see a table that I thought might serve as an ideal desk/workspace. It wasn’t so great. Now I know why the photo was a bit blurry.

But my other quest was better than expected. First, the house was just a few miles away, which is not always the case around here. I was looking at a queen bed and bed frame. It was in exceptional condition and was a classic style, perfect for the guest room. The owners were friendly, too.  She then showed me a couple of other items: a scrumptious oversized chair with an ottoman and a custom-made steel coffee table with a glass top. I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it all.”

One little problem: I just moved here, and I have a small SUV. How was I going to get all of this fabulous stuff transported? Only the coffee table would fit, but I wouldn’t be able to lift it by myself.

Fortunately, this is Montana, where practically every household owns a pick-up, and most people are pretty darn friendly.  And let’s just say I’m not exactly shy.  I first tried my new friend in the neighborhood. Surely she would know someone with a truck who could help me. Oops. She couldn’t think of anyone, but she did offer the services of her son who was coming into town for a visit. My next option was a neighbor. I had only met him once, but he seemed like a good guy. Really, what was the worst thing that could happen? He could say no, or make an excuse. He didn’t. Most people are helpful by nature.

So late this morning the three of us headed out to pick up my not new, but gently used, furniture. I’m so very thankful for the kindness of those who were nearly strangers. No doubt I’ll have an opportunity to repay their kindness sometime soon.