Earlier today, My Taller Half (MTH) sent a text. It read simply 41 days. I knew instantly what he meant. It wasn’t a countdown to a holiday or big event. It wasn’t a milestone in his life, like 41 days without smoking, drinking, or watching cat videos. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t drink. And a day without cat videos? Not a chance! But it was a milestone of sorts.
When we travel to the Big City, we pass through a town that is not as big as Pixley. There isn’t a major chain motel there. There is no Walmart. Next to a Bingo parlor, there is a Piggly Wiggly, which those in the know simply call The Pig. There’s a Hardee’s, a pizza joint, and the ubiquitous Dollar General. The biggest business in town is the lumber mill.
Thousands of acres of pine trees surround Pixley, many on tree farms. Daily, big tractor-trailers laden with pine head to the lumber mill, where the strong, pleasant scents of pine and sawdust perfume the air.
In front of the lumber mill is a sign with numbers in lights — 41 Days without an Accident.
Since we pass the sign regularly, MTH and I pay attention to the numbers. We have become invested in them. We have friendly wagers on what the numbers will read that day.
It was up to 308 Days Without an Accident once, maybe higher, before a crane tipped over, sending its operator and the accident-free days plummeting. It was a real disappointment to us, though we were happy that no serious injuries were reported. The numbers climb for a while, then suddenly, they fall again. There aren’t many newspapers in our area. Sometimes we’ll search the news on the internet, trying to find out what happened. When we can’t, MTH and I come up with our own stories..
“Steve! What did you do this time? Don’t run the crane without a second cup of coffee!”
“Oh, that Jake was at it again! He probably had liquor in his Thermos! Must have bought it there, because Pixley is in a dry county.”
(Apologies to any Steve or Jake who may work at the lumber mill. We know you did nothing wrong. Well, we’re pretty sure anyway.)
When I lived in my last Big City — more than five times the size of the Big City here — things were always changing. Stores and restaurants opened and closed constantly. You never knew what you would find when you went out. I doubt much has changed in the little town with the lumber mill since they built the Hardee’s.
A little over a year ago, they built a new Taco Bell in Pixley. There were lines of cars circling the building for about a month. Now there’s a new Popeye’s about to open. It is beginning to worry us. We’re growing too fast. MTH and I are already eyeing the land in the country we will buy when we win the lottery. Don’t get me wrong — Pixley is no Big City — but things are getting a bit crowded here.
We like the quiet. We prefer the serenade of birds, cicadas, and the evening froggy chorus to the wailing of sirens. We like life without traffic jams. We like cheering for the guys and gals at the lumber mill when their accident-free days climb. It makes us smile. It’s one of the things we love about living here. Things that wouldn’t seem all that important in the BIG CITY are important here, and they should be. The opening of a new business and the safety of the men and women at the lumber mill are worthy of celebration.