Dear Editor,
I’m cleaning the floors in my house.
The dust from all the sanding of the drywall mud covers everything. Already I’m feeling the stress that Thanksgiving weekend can bring, ensuring I properly schedule visits and attend meals with all my family.
I haven’t been home here in Rimbey for over two weeks. The renovations I hired out for my bathroom remodeling prevented me from living in my house. No toilet, no shower, and all the water was briefly turned off in the entire house that has only one bathroom.
I had been staying with my grandmother in Red Deer.
Recognizing my stress, I set aside the mop and bucket and sit outside to relax a moment. It’s likely one of the last of a handful of nice days before the snow flies.
In a mere two weeks I have forgotten about the tranquility and solitude that living in Rimbey delivers.
The noise of Gaetz Ave., and the false sense of urgency within the traffic of 32nd and 67th streets cannot penetrate our small town’s limits.
It seems that everyone in Red Deer is too busy to stop and smell the roses.
Unfortunately there are no apparent roses to stop and smell along the busy asphalt tributaries.
The parking lots outside of the malls are filled with vehicles and the neighborhood parks are empty. It seems the people here would rather sit in a food court instead of having a picnic in the grass.
Drinking tea in my backyard in Rimbey sounds better than slurping through an Orange Julius sitting on the ridged benches in the mall.
Rimbey is its own little kingdom set far away in a peaceful country.
The sounds and flashing sirens of emergency vehicles are only heard on rare occasions.
The constant buzz of incandescent marquis are shut off at a respectful hour and do not drain power throughout a 24-hour convenience store schedule.
Rimbey smells of the countryside and freshly harvested crops, and not of concentrated vehicle exhaust in traffic.
You can stand on a clear winter night in your backyard and be grated with the gift of the Northern lights, a sign that cannot penetrate the high volume of the nightly illumination of the city.
Rimbey is a rare stone imbedded in the countryside and with a little polish may shine brighter than any street lamp in Red Deer.
I’ve already forgotten about the mop and bucket while enjoying the colours of fall within my backyard.
My first destination of my Thanksgiving is back to where I stayed over the last two weeks.
My only hope is that the company of family will distract me from the city and I can enjoy a meal as if I am dining within borders of my countryside kingdom.
Jonah Kondro