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    August 29

    Small town Nebraska, good times

    Went to the dentist the other day (that’s not the ‘good time’) as I’m awaiting my turn I see a button-down plaid, blue jeans, stocky man exit after his procedure.  After being shown to the door by the dentist himself and exchanging cordial farewells, he opens the first of two doors he must navigate… then he stops.  Holds the door.  Not the impatient “hurry through this door so I can get through the one you’re using” but a polite and comfortable, respectful holding of the door. Not only does he hold the door, he asks if the entrancee needs a hand with the other one.  In comes a gray haired lady in a wheelchair and her companion.  Charlie (that’s his name) exchanges pleasantries, greetings, weather updates as they maneuver through his door.  Not in a needy “I HAVE to say something to someone” or “I need you to notice me” or “I do this because I'm a gentleman" way, but in a relaxed manner that says of him without any effort “I notice you, this is no big deal, I treat everyone this way without even thinking about it” kind of way.  If he’d been wearing a hat, he’d have unconciously tipped it.  Maybe I’m a sucker, but the old-fashioned gentleman values he displayed caught hold of my heart.  Not because of the wheelchair, either… just because that kind of consideration.. the kind that doesn’t express the person’s own needs, just their values… seems to be so rare.

    Went to an auction today.  Spent $51 total and purchased what when put together will be a complete pig corral (minus the actual labor for installation) and a bunch of extra posts for replacing perimeter poles or starting our rotational grazing fences for the cows or whatever.  Spent much of the day watching farmers socialize, kids chasing kittens and friendly, relaxed, respectful conversations among complete strangers.  As I’m watching the auctioneer rattle of “Here we go, $5 your choice, fi-dolla-fi-dollar, (hup!) have a fi-dolla, gimme ten dolla…” as he begins the sale of wire and electric fence posts I scan the crowd and realize that I’m a minority.  I wear neither overalls NOR ballcap (one of which is a given for 80% of the crowd) and I have the wrong equipment to fit in with the gender present.  When I did win a bid, I hear “SOLD to the young lady number…?”.  Later as I chose to take BOTH piles of less-desirable posts when the afternoon made bidding slow causing the auctioneer to work doubly hard to evoke and raise the bidding, the spotter told me I was being a sweetheart and saving them the trouble.  Lest you think the comment indicates that I got taken rather than that they were tired and ready to be done, I bought two piles (somewhere between 40-60 total posts some rotted, some usable, some decent) for $15 total when you can drop $40 on a single new post of the same type.   I left feeling like a ‘sweet, young lady’.   

    To use a small-town colloquialism, “Bless their hearts.”

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