When you live in a small place news gets around faster than you would imagine. Even before it was finally settled that I would move back and take care of my parents house while they live on Svalbard, i was approached by an old neighbour telling me how nice he thought it was that I was moving back home. Actually I've jet to meet an old friend or neighbour who didn't already know that I'm moving back. As I've mentioned in an earlier post, Hakadal is not small enough for everyone to know who you are, but Løvstad, the place were I live in Hakadal certainly is, and everyone who lives there seemed to know that I was moving home even before I did. This should make the hairs on my back stand up, strangely it don't, I love the idea of my neighbours taking an interest in my life. In Oslo I don't even know the name of my neighbours, I don't even remember the name of one of my roommates, she moved in just weeks before I moved out, but still.
Once when I was young one of our neighbours called my mum at work to tell her she had forgotten to turn of the stove before she left, he could see the light trough the window. That's caring for your neighbour, a bit creepy to, but still, kind of nice.
You see, that's what I want in a small town, not the everyone knowing who you banged last weekend or even worse who you wanted to bang but couldn't get, but the calling at work to tell you that you forgot to turn of the stove or the making sure nothing happens to your house while you're away for the weekend. That I want!
Check out the woodcarver workshop where my cousin is an apprentice!
BTW: I've been taking advantage of the fact that I live almost IN the woods.
