Love and hate

Love
I grew up in a small New England town. A place where we never locked our front door, road bikes way past dusk and knew just about everyone we'd run in to on the street. My Dad was the local dentist and his office was right uptown. Every day at noon the town's emergency alarm would sound. Letting folks for miles around know that it was lunchtime. When I happened to be in my dad's office I would need to cover my ears. That's how loud it was. But, even though my ears might disagree, it is one of my many fond childhood memories. We now live in a town where the very same thing happens. Granted we lock our doors and never let the kids out of sight, but that trusty alarm sounds every day at noon. We are close enough to the center of town that we can hear it in our house (if no kids are yelling or the TV is not on). Granted, even though this is the same alarm they use to indicate you better hussle to the basement cause a tornado is near, I still enough hearing it.

Hate
Delivery windows. Don't they drive you nuts? We'll be there between 10-1. Um, ok. Why don't you just fess up and say 1. They never, ever come on the early side of the range. So you spend time off from work just waiting. For nothing to happen. Then when they do come you're already agitated and perhaps a little bitchy. Well, gotta go blog friends...HA!, they're here.