Just call me Aunt Bee

I live in a town of 11,000 people. A town that makes you feel like, somehow, you've gone back in time.

A town where:

-it's considered rude if you don't wave as you drive past.

-our house is still known for the doctor who used to live here. Even though that was years ago. "We live in the doctor's house"

-the week we moved in, we had people in our neighborhood stop and introduce themselves...telling us "if you ever need anything please come by"

- the postman actually parked his car and walked up to my porch to ask me about my license plate meaning.

-the library is a large, one room building where the librarian knows your name...and those of your children.

-it has its own yearly fair. that all fits in a "large yard".

-there's an elderly man who is retired, but does odd jobs for the town. The township and the people give him firewood, garden plants, and other things just because everybody watches out for him.

-a large group of young people gathers at the car wash to "park". But not ONCE in our two years of living here...and passing them almost every evening...have I seen them have anything resembling beer.

-strangers come up to us in the local McDonalds to tell us how much they appreciate our family

-we have neighbors on all three sides that I would trust our children to stay with

-the neighborhood policemen patrol our neighborhood just "watching".

-And the views...well, I'll just say we're surrounded by picturesque mountains (that's my town in the above picture...nestled among mountains).

In order for us to be able to get to our family, our church, and most of our friends, we have to drive around for a while on a highway with a bunch of Nascar-wanna-bes. But to be honest, Jet and I would have a hard time leaving this town just to be closer to the bigger one.

Somewhere in the background I can hear the whistle of "Andy Griffith". And I'm pretty sure that Deputy Barney Fife just drove by.