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Posts Tagged ‘small world’

We needed a new roof.  We chose a black metal maintenance free roof that is guaranteed for life.  But should you try to call us on the telephonic equipment don’t be surprised if we don’t answer. We only have cell phones and the metal roof blocks the cell signal in certain spots within our house.  Not to worry though, you call always call Millheim Pa ask the Amish person who picks up the phone to speak to Henry, then tell Henry you are trying to reach the guy who lives across the street from Amy, the one with the new lawn mower and the shiny black metal roof, who is making a racket with his working chipper shredder.

Okay, since you asked so nicely I will explain.

Millheim Pa sports a large Amish community has a population of 907 people consisting 322 families. Millheim also happens to be located 45 minutes away from our home.  We were in Millheim because my wife works with Jamie, Jamie’s husband, Nick is a general contractor who owns his own contracting business Nickolas Klaue Construction.  We were hiring Nick to put on our new roof. For you locals, if you are working on a project I’d give Nick a call.  His rates are reasonable.  He does good work, he was done in the time he said it would take and when done he cleaned up everything.  We could not be more satisfied.  My wife started talking to Nick about our two lawn mowers that don’t work.  Nick suggested that we visit Millheim small engine repair because even if the mowers are not worth fixing, Henry the owner would probably take them as a trade.  My wife and I loaded up the ole’ SUV with the incredibly heavy chipper shredder that I have not been able to start in two years and went off in search of Henry and his Millheim Small Engine Repair.  We spoke to Henry and told him Nick sent us.  We discussed the mower situation and he said bring them on down and we can work something out, after all we are friends with Nick.

Two weeks later we went to pick up our chipper shredder.  Rather than bring the mowers down we decided to take pictures.  From the pictures alone Henry offered us a deal.

While filling out paper work the woman who works for Henry noticed our address and says to my wife.  “Do you know Amy?”  To which my wife replied yes we do, Amy lives across the street from us and is the sister to our neighbor John with whom we are good friends.  The woman explained that she knows Amy and her husband quite well but does not know John, but knows of John because Linda’s daughter is currently dating John.  “Really” we said, we know John is dating but we didn’t know who, nor do we know this Linda.  The woman explained that she knows Linda well but not Linda’s daughter and it is Linda X.  The name to me sounds familiar.   Suddenly I perk up, I know a Dean X we work together or at least in the same company, just different departments.  Dean also lives on our street.  Yes the woman explained, Dean is Linda’s son so John is dating Dean’s sister.

So 45 minutes from home, a complete stranger is informing us of the socio-geographic landscape of our street.  Nothing like life in small town, but wait my big city friends, the saga continues.

The woman helping us with the paper work notices that my wife works at Penn State.  “Oh, I used to work there” she says, “where do you work at Penn State?”  My wife starts to explain and the woman interrupts my wife because the woman used to work at the same lab my wife works!  And their time over lapped each other!

So we ended up supporting two local businesses, learning the gossip on our street, a working chipper shredder, a new riding mower, and a new roof.

Do you remember Nick?  Yeah, well after all was said and done Nick purchased one of our non-working mowers from Henry.  It is the circle of life I’m tellin’ you.  THE CIRCLE…

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Today celebrates my first guest poster and I am honoured that it is my mother who, through this example shows us that this is not just a small town, or a small country, but a small world.  So, take it away mom!

Somewhere between 15 and 20 years ago, my daughter received a frozen turkey from her boss at Thanksgiving. That was the good news. The bad news was that it wasn’t Kosher and my home is.

After some consideration I decided to give it to my non-Jewish friend, Joni. She kept it frozen and made a scrumptious turkey dinner for Christmas and invited us. That bloomed into a tradition that still exists, even though she moved from Montreal to Kitchener Ontario.

Although we were friends prior to the turkey and often got together on a Saturday night, we always ate out.  Since that time, whenever a turkey was involved we were invited. We were not the only ones at the table. There was usually an assortment of interesting people there.

For instance, while still in Montreal, Joni and her husband, being skiers, shared a chalet in Stowe, Vermont for the winters with a bunch of other people from Canada and the U.S. who were skiers.

One day Joni called to invite us for turkey dinner as one of the people who shared the chalet, Ron from Washington, D.C, was in Montreal for the Tour de l’Ile, an annual bicycle race around the island of Montreal (I think it’s a race or marathon) and people come from all over to take part in it. Ron, Joni, her brother and the regular writer of this blog used to partake in the race. Anyhow, here we are all sitting around the table enjoying our dinner while Ron told us stories about his recent trip to Tibet. He went with a tour. They were at the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains and the guide asked if anyone was interested in climbing. He was. It turned out that only he and a couple from Montreal were fit enough to make the climb. He said the three of them became friendly being the only ones there and the fellow he befriended gave him his card and told him to call if he ever came to Montreal. I asked the person’s name.

“Oh, yah, right. How many people in Montreal, 2 million? I don’t think you know them.”

“You never know” I replied.

He took out the business card and handed it over to me.  I freaked. The person on the card was Irving, the son of my father’s close friend. My father and his friend were both custom tailors. They were part of a group that used to play gin rummy every week, often at our home. When I told Ron, he thought I was pulling his leg. But the best is yet to come. When my husband saw who it was, he said that the Irving’s father made his Bar Mitzvah  suit for him some fifty years ago, and he has a movie of his Bar Mitzvah* where at one point they are showing off the suit and show the label.

So before I even knew my husband we were connected. I did know that my father’s friend made his suit.

When my Dad was phoning the whole world to tell everyone his daughter was getting married and to who, his friend said, “What do mean, do I know them? I made his Bar Mitzvah suit for him!”

It’s a small world, after all!

*For those that may not know, a Bar Mitzvah is when a young Jewish boy (13yrs) is called upon the read from the Torah.  It is a right of passage where the boy becomes responsible for his  adherence to the laws, traditions and ethics of the religion. Before such time it is the responsibility of the parent.

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