Good afternoon and welcome to another Scattered Saturday post (at least, I think my WordPress says it’s already Sunday, but whatever). I worked this morning, as I believe I mentioned yesterday. My first stop after work was the post office, to mail a package. As I addressed the padded envelope and got the item inside, a young lady at the table questioned the city on the address of the package she was mailing.
“Croton-on-Hudson?”
“Near the City?” I said knowledgeably. “They get fancy near the City.”
“I’m just from a small town,” she said with a laugh.
“I feel like a hick from the sticks when I go to Albany,” I admitted. That, by the way, is a true story. I lived in Norwood, NY, at the time, another teeny-tiny but charming village. Some members of my family went to a hospital in Albany (Albany Medical Center? Is there more than one hospital in Albany?) (just to sound really hicks-from-the-sticksy) (I bet you thought I was going to say “hickey”) (you know who you are).
It is a large hospital, so we asked somebody how to get to the area we wanted. The directions included the words, “turn left at the bank.” We thanked the person politely and walked in the direction indicated, waiting till we were a few steps away before looking at each other in confusion and saying, “Did they say turn at the bank?” hoping that at least one of us had heard the right directions. A few feet down the hallway, we saw the bank.
A bank in the hospital! Who thinks of these things? And that, dear readers, is how to feel like a hick from the sticks.
After that digression (which gave me my title, do you like it?), I continued on to the grocery store to purchase refreshments for a minor gathering on my deck this evening.
Oh dear, if any of my local friends are reading this and think I am having a fabulous party without you, I’m not. It’s a strictly informal, small gathering, and if anybody reading this tonight wants to, well, just come on over. Surprise me.
Mohawk Valley Girl 