Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Not Getting There

I have no excuse.

But I'll let you judge . . .
A woman in our church group, whom I had never met, had just given birth to a tiny, sweet preemie girl.
She had two other children.
And a husband.
I offered to surprise them with dinner.
An easy and painless way to help out.
I made a pot of soup.
Fresh rolls.
And a salad.
Packing everything into a box, I got into the truck and headed out.
Now, I should mention here that I live in a small town.
I've lived in this same small town for nearly a quarter of a century.
Yes, it has grown.
A lot.
But it is still my home town.
And it takes three minutes to drive from one end to the other.
On a busy day.
Twenty minutes later, I was still driving around, looking for this woman's address.
Finally, almost tearful with frustration, I broke down and called her, begging for directions.
“I'm right across the street from Beau Meadow School,” she said. “You can't miss the house. It's brightly lit and there is a 'For Sale' sign in the front yard.”
Now, in our town, that particular school is on what we call the 'ring road'.
It makes a circuit of the entire town.
Meandering through all four quadrants.
It is the quickest way to anywhere.
This woman was on it.
I live just off it.
Our houses were, quite literally, one minute apart.
I finally pulled up to the described house, shut off my truck and carried my now-tepid-meal to the front door.
And realized something.
Not only was this house almost within spitting distance of mine.
But it was a house my son and his family had recently outgrown and sold.
After having lived there for over three years.
I had been in and out of it for that entire time.
I knew it almost as well as I knew my own.
I knew where it was.
And how to get there.
And where to park.
I could have told anyone how to find it.
Only one thing was missing.
I had never noted the address.
See?
No excuse.

20 comments:

  1. Oh no!! Sad....but so funny. I am sure there are lot's of us that can relate to this. No one ever notes an address in small towns. It's all done by landmarks. And don't ever change those landmarks!!!! lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes. About that white barn that used to be red . . .

      Delete
  2. I hear you big time! Often I just know how to get to places, and then when I am asked the address, I am lost. Tee-Hee! Guess it runs in the family!
    Love,
    Chris

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I don't think I could tell you the address of a single one of my kids. Sigh

      Delete
  3. *snap* I know where many of my friends live, but if you ask me how to get there I couldn't possibly tell you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Exactly! It's a show me, don't tell me situation! :)

      Delete
  4. Oh so familiar to me, and pretty common overall, too, by the look of these comments! Why clutter up our brains with all those "street names" and "street numbers"? We can manage just fine without them ... most of the time ...

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh, I am so happy to find out that I am not the only one that didn't get the address. I loved it.
    Blessings for this smile............

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You can come and get lost with me any time, LeAnn! :)

      Delete
  6. I can relate to this. Just after I graduated high school, my town changed the street naming system from street names to a numeric system. I left town right about that time - but I still know my way around - unless someone tells me their address in numeric format. Then I am completely lost.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yikes! It's bad enough when they change the landmarks. But to change the street names? Totally lost! BTW, Mary, My Husby has connected you to us! This is what he said: If I understand correctly, Mary Burris’ aunt Elizabeth B. Patterson (and later her sister Edith) was married to Eldon Tolley, who was my Dad’s first cousin. (Eldon’s Father and my Dad’s father Jesse P. Tolley were brothers). So there is no blood relation, but a double (two sisters) marriage connection, to be sure. You can let Mary know that we’ll claim her! I met Eldon Tolley a couple of times, at family reunions when I was a kid. I believed he lived most of his life in Missoula, Montana – I remember him most from a reunion that he hosted there once.
      There you have it. You're family!

      Delete
  7. Now that sounds like something the hubby would do. I have to keep the GPS in his glove box and fixed so he can just hit home at anytime to find his way!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Heehee! Let's not send he or I out on a task. You'd never see us again!

      Delete
  8. I know how it is. We are just on auto pilot when we drive around our own town to the places we regularly frequent.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So true. Sometimes I'm on such autopilot that I drive somewhere I never intended to go!

      Delete
  9. I sometimes find it harder to navigate places I think I know than places I've never been. That said...Diane. It was your son's house. But good for you for being so brave and honest and admitting it. :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. One of my first posts was about being directionally challenged. What you just described Diane, is how I live my life, pretty much every day!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hmmm . . . let's not vacation together! :)

      Delete

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