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    Baby It’s Cold Outside

    Baby it’s cold outside! Plus it’s also wet, dreary, overcast, heat still on and no sunshine. But we’re still Buckeyes forever.

    Let me explain. About half way back on our 1200-mile journey home, I commented to Ginger, “I forgot to call the village to have our water turned back on. Why don’t you call Julie or Brian and at least have the heat turned up and check the house before we get home.”

    Julie and Brian Wombold are our neighbors. They’ve been living in Ginger’s home place since purchasing the property after the death of Ginger’s mother. They’re absolutely the best neighbors on this planet.

    “Hello Julie, this is Ginger. I called to see if you could have Brian open up our house, and leave us a bucket full of water, so we can flush the toilet. We’ll be home today,” she explained. “Gary forgot to call the village to have our water turned on.”

    It wasn’t 30 minutes when Julie called back. “Ginger, I just wanted you to know that Brian is calling Jay Roberts to see if he will come down and turn your water on?”

    “That would be great, “ Ginger, laughed. “But it’s Sunday.”

    A few minutes later, another call came with the news that Jay was coming to our rescue, and Brian would check for leaks (if any) and air the house out for us.

    Isn’t it great to live in a small village that people care about each other?

    This entire incident reminded me of the time Ginger and I were out shopping and knew we had reached our time limit with our dog Rosie.

    “Just call Julie and have her let the dog out for us,” I disclosed.

    Ginger dialed the phone, and I could tell there was no one home, and she was leaving a message. “This is Ginger, we’re still in Dayton, and I wondering if you could stop and let Rosie out to do her business. Thanks!”

    After we had returned home, Ginger answered the door, to find Joann VanCulin standing on our porch asking if Rosie was all right?

    “Yes, she’s fine. Why do you ask?” She replied.

    With a puzzled look Joann answered, “Because you left me a message to go and let Rosie out.”

    Only in a small town could you have dialed a wrong number, and leave a message to let your dog out, and the person on the other end would come and do it.

    This week’s bottom line: I love small towns!

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