You know when you pass a diesel truck carrying three loads, tradition has it that you honk your horn three times? Well, start honkin': I'm posting three times in one day.
Got a call from Kulani's old neighbor Sister Swenson this morning. She was worried about Kulani's mom, who had a scary health episode on Monday. Sister Swenson didn't see the Fisher's car in the driveway today, so she called information to find our number to see if we knew where Kulani's mom and dad were at. She was afraid Afton, Kulani's mom, might be in the hospital. Kulani's mom is fine and they traveled up to Spanish Fork for a grandson's mission farewell.
I don't know if all small-town folks are similar to Blanding folks, but people who grew up in Blanding are particularly nosy--but in a good way. Recently, while in Blanding, I left my grocery cart for a couple of seconds, and a kindly woman reminded me to take my purse with me at all times, because even in small towns like Blanding, theives are waiting to pounce. This kind of exchange is not uncommon when I go to Blanding. People really care, and they let you know. At first, it kind of took me off guard to have so many "mothers" helping me out. But with age and maturity, I know they really do mean well, and they really don't wish to see harm, danger, bad manners, bad breath, etc. befall me. As Kulani's parents age and their health starts to deteriorate, it's nice to know neighbors like Connie Swenson are there looking out for them.