So I'm listening to Chicago Public Radio on my iPod - this past week's This American Life - and the first story is about a woman, our neighbor, living a stone's throw from our house in our tiny village of a handful of people. What a small world.
She moved in around the same time as Mike, nearly 20 years ago. Yet we both learned more about her from a small segment on an American radio show than we've ever learned from speaking to her directly.
I know I posted recently about the bartering system in our little village and how it can lead to a real sense of community. But I think this coincidence shows that we still don't really know each other. As I started to explain the story to Mike, he shared with me other stories from his experience of village life. And not all of them were nice stories. Some were secondhand, based on heresay or gossip (which he is always quick to point out is only that). There's always a lot more going on beneath our daily exchanges.
It's a shoot day tomorrow. Dinner isn't finished, Mike's suit jacket needs cleaning and I'm worried about Dulcie who is looking stiff in her right hind leg. I guess at the end of the day, we all get absorbed in the minutiae of our own everyday life and the minutiae of our neighbors' lives don't even cross our minds. It's not until we hear about their experiences and realise how much we have in common that it comes into focus. Then it really feels like a small world.