We live in a rural island community in the Pacific Northwest. We moved here almost six years ago in hopes of finding a place where things were a bit slower, color was abound, and crime was not an issue. For the most part, that is exactly what we found. But there were tradeoffs.
Things are calmer, but sometimes to a degree that can agitate me. The locals call it “island” time. It pretty much means that things will get done whenever the person needing to do it gets around to it. Businesses close when they feel like it. When we call to see when a restaurant is closing, we normally get a gentle pause as the person on the other end assesses the current crowd and how tired they happen to be. The most frequent answer I get is something along the lines of: when it slows down. I translate this to mean if I do not get there in the next 10 minutes, we are probably out of luck for dinner. The desire for more color and contrast has been completely satisfied with four seasons and evergreens. As for crime, it is definitely a lot less than where we came from. The crime in Phoenix was showing no signs of slowing down upon our departure. While there is a bit of crime here, it pales in significance to any urban area and many rural places too. After all, it is hard to get away when you have to take a ferry as your getaway vehicle. This leads me to our local paper and its crime reports. Most of the calls that the local law enforcement receive I believe are from elderly couples on their way home from the grocery store who have found some young hooligans to be suspicious, i.e. every young group of teens that make eye contact. But we also have some of the oddest reports…so odd; I often share with those dear individuals that I think will appreciate.
Here are two that I found especially funny this last week. Maybe it’s just me, but the vision I have in my head of some pink-haired grandma in the wheelchair ramming into another senior who is so slow that this geriatric perpetrator is able to strike twice is priceless. I hope you enjoy~