Small Town Livin'

*Just a short break from the baby updates - don't worry, more pics and videos to come soon!

Despite living in Rochester 5+ years now, I somehow still find myself bewildered, in a good way (most of the time), at the differences in living in a small town vs. a larger city. Although I've acclimated quite nicely, I still smile at some of the experiences/conversations I have on a regular basis. Here are a few of the most recent ones:

1. A Trip to the BMV
About a month ago, I had to make a trip to the BMV to get a new license plate for our van. Typically, in most other cities, there would be nothing exciting or unique about such an outing. However, I forgot that a trip to any local merchant in Rochester, could result in something unexpected. This trip was no different. I sat in the lobby waiting for my number to be called, and when it was, I sat down at the counter to request my new plate. The clerk was was very polite, and began entering information into her computer. A few minutes had passed, when out of nowhere I hear "My parents were dear friends with Bob and Elaine". Huh? I look up at the clerk, still entering information into her computer, and not looking at me. I had to quickly evaluate the situation: no other customers were around, was she talking to me?, Bob and Elaine - Evan's grandparents, she must have read "Gottschalk" on my license, and then launched into conversation, all the while diligently typing away, not looking at me. I had to quickly respond, realizing yes, she was talking to me. I politely responded, which, naturally then led to a full-blown conversation relative to Evan's family. I updated the clerk on Grandpa's continued good health after surgery, and that they were in Florida, but eager to come back this way when the weather warms up. Then, out of nowhere, she tells me her daughter works for Evan at First Federal (note: we hadn't mentioned Evan once) and that she really enjoys it. Then proceeds to ask me about my due date (obviously pregnant) and didn't I have a little one at home? Um, why yes, yes I do. We finished our BMV-business and politely said our good-byes and good wishes in the coming new year. I walked to my car, somewhat surprised, but only for a minute, then smiled to myself wondering why I thought a trip to the BMV would be "normal".

2. Our Mailman Shane
When we moved to our house on Maples Ct. we didn't realize that we would be treated to the world's friendliest mailman. Now, he is the same mailman as Evan's parents, so he did know us perse, or at least Evan, that is. A few weeks ago, I was pulling into my garage, on the phone with a work friend, when I noticed Shane had pulled up and was getting out of his truck, a sign that he had a package too large for the mailbox. Not thinking anything of it, I quickly asked my friend to hold on while I said hi and received the package. I forgot he was the world's friendliest mailman, who just so happens to think Jane is the world's cutest little girl (I tend to agree). As he walked up, he said hello, then launched into a litany of questions about Jane. How is she doing? Is she keeping us busy? Does she like the snow? etc. I, of course, answered all his questions, wished him a good day and then went back to my conversation, where my friend immediately said, "was that your mailman?! How does he even know Jane, doesn't he just drop your mail off in your mailbox?" We both had a good laugh about it, as I realized I had gotten so accustomed to conversations with Shane, all about Jane, that it didn't even seem weird to me!

Then, 3 days ago, Evan was home and Shane came to the door and the conversations continued. He asked about Jane and Evan said she was good, but that she was at his mom's house, and he immediately responded, "Oh, that's right, it's Wednesday". I'm pretty sure that startled Evan that our mailman knows our weekly babysitting routine. He then proceeded to tell Evan that the first time he saw Jane at his mom's house she was a little shy, but the next time she raced to the door with one shoe on and one shoe off, and tried to hand him her other shoe. That must have done him in, because now he loves talking about her and saying hi! He told Evan she reminds him of his daughter at that age, and that he loves getting to know the kids on his route and when she gets older he'll be sure to bring her crayons and stuff. I just have to smile.

3. Are you Evan?
If Evan and I had a dollar for everytime we are asked, "Are you Steve's son?", "Are you Evan?", "Did you marry Evan?", "Are you related to the realtor?" I think we'd both retire comfortably at age 30. This happened yet again at the hospital a few days ago. Luke had to have a Biliruben test done to make sure any signs of jaundice were fading. As we are sitting at the registration desk, one of the volunteers comes over to take our paperwork to the lab. As she is looking at Luke (who had the hospital bracelet around his car seat), she stands up and looks at Evan and says, quote, "Are you Evan? Do you know who I am?" Um. Give Evan credit that he was, as usual, polite as ever, and said, that no, he did not unfortunately. She stated her name was "something Collins" (we can't remember - lack of sleep!) and that she was church friends with his parents from long ago, and that she last saw him when he was like 5 or 6 years old. Wow, impressive memory!