Earlier this Spring, my husband and I spent a week in a small, sleepy town in the middle of Virginia with a population of just over 3,000. We had gone for work, but I ended up learning a few lessons about leisure and life there, which can occasionally include a round of Corn Hole   

Now, most people – especially happy city-dwellers like us – have this idyllic conception about small town America (or small towns generally):  the people are especially friendly and hospitable, houses and buildings are picturesque and cute, you can walk just about anywhere, the surroundings are green and clean, the streets are safe and quiet, people stop to chat and say hello just because, the air is especially invigorating, and everyone really must know your name and sort of look after each other…

As we drove into town, we found the Walmart was the biggest store around for miles, and this charming Southern town really did live up to every pleasant stereotype we had imagined   The employees at the inn at which we stayed never looked too busy to help us with requests, and one of them personally arranged to have his friend – a popular local baker who was always oversubscribed – prepare a customized order of Southern baked goods for us to purchase as local gifts   

One night, we went into a restaurant serving a homestyle buffet of delicious Southern cooking, and the servers were all friends of the owner/cook! Except us, the customers were all their regulars – chatting away in quiet corners on a Friday night as they chugged down pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade, and exchanging personalized good-byes with the servers as they headed out.

On another occasion, some colleagues and I went for a walk   First, a fat, friendly white and furry cat meowed at us, and came running to be greeted and petted   A few minutes later, a lively woman in her mid-fifties (the cat’s “mamma,” as she was known in the neighborhood) appeared and had a lengthy conversation with us   She told us how she was born in this town – just three houses down the street from where she now lived, how her whole family had grown up there, how she had left and worked elsewhere, why she had recently returned, how her cat knew everyone in town and loved all the attention people gave, what the best restaurants in town were, and more… 

As we said our good-byes and walked a bit further, we saw something we might perhaps never see in the DC metro:  a man was driving in his car, saw someone on the street walking ahead, stopped, and offered the stranger (who perhaps wasn’t so unfamiliar to the driver) a ride   This wasn’t an Uber pick-up; it was just a person offering another person a favor, the other smiling, and gratefully accepting it!

One of my colleagues reflected on how “people have time to just stop and talk to strangers or give them rides” – a characteristic assumption about how life is slow and easy-going in quaint small towns, and how people therefore have time for each other.

In the moment, I corrected this assumption   “People don’t have time; they make it   It’s a choice ”  People don’t suddenly behave differently towards others, become more trusting, open, and friendly because they live in small towns and we live in big cities   People don’t suddenly stop to talk with others they’ve never met or exchange a smile with someone they don’t know because small town behavior just brings out the “niceness” in them!  People make an active choice to prioritize people   That active choice can be made no matter where we live.

On a slightly unrelated note, we took some time to explore the area around our hotel in this idyllic little town  Outside the main building of the inn where my husband and I stayed was a beautiful green space   It featured a lovely, outdoor patio, fire pits, rolling grassy lawn, and fountain   Before the walk, my colleagues and I decided to check out the area, in part spotting an adorable bunny bouncing around there…

…and partly curious about a game we saw that could be played there   The game is called Corn Hole   Out on the patio were stacks of fabric bean bags   You have to aim and throw these sacks so that they either land on a raised, angled board (which sort of looks like a seesaw) or in the hole created at the end of the board   It’s something like going bowling and trying to make a strike   As a blind person throwing, it looks like an exercise in futility!

I don’t know the purpose of Corn Hole, why it was created, and how you score and do well   In fact, even Amazon’s Alexa isn’t sure what the origins of Corn Hole are – musing that it could have originated as early as the 14th century in what is now present-day Germany, or in the Americas by Native Americans at an unknown time, or in the early 20th century in Cincinnati, Ohio   

Just because, we decided to try our hand at Corn Hole, and had an unexpectedly marvelous time…  Without necessarily being purposeful, we were prioritizing people – prioritizing leisure, and ourselves! Check out the video!

For the next two weeks, I’ll be taking a short break from my weekly conversations with you all, my wonderful followers.  Thank you all for your support and engagement as I’ve gone on this blogging journey so far. I absolutely love to see your thoughts in the comments and on my social media. Be sure to come back on August 7^th for a new post. Until then, I hope you all have a chance to connect with your loved ones and friends new and old. Talk soon!