Dang, This is a Small Town

Every six months or so I am reminded in some way of how small a town this is. Not only that, but I am often amazed by the number of people that grew up here who come back. The small town nature and the return of people to the town makes for an interesting combination. I've been learning over the years (and sometimes the hard way) that I must be VERY VERY careful about what I say in town, and that to many, I will always be in interloper.

That neighbor who drives me nuts and whose children do interesting things? She grew up here. Her mother and father still live in the house in which she grew up, and her brother recently moved back.

Yesterday I took S to a birthday party. All the kids in her class were invited. In talking to the other mothers, one of whom is the mother of one of S's close pals (also an S), I learned that other S's mom and J's mom both grew up in town. In fact, other S's mom knows the neighbor from grade school and their mothers are friends. J's mom knows the neighbor's brother from high school. These returnees, these "true" locals, they are everywhere. Everywhere.

What does this mean? My neighbor's crap is going to be my own private agony. I cannot breathe a word of it around town - because I am the newcomer (well, there are a couple of people I can say something to, but we are still very careful). My neighbor, however, because she's a native, and her roots go deeper, has much wider swath that she can cut, if she so chooses. It's like a game, but one for which you are never quite let in on all the rules.

Granted, discretion is warranted no matter where you live and with whom, but it would be nice not to have worry about the town grapevine quite so much.