Going To Town

To market, to market to buy a fat pig...home again, home again, jiggity jig!

That nursery rhyme is in my head on a regular basis around here, due to a change in our vocabulary.

When we lived in Missouri, and were 5 minutes from just about any store you'd need, the vocabulary was different:

"I'm going to Target."

"I'm going over to Hy-Vee, need anything?"

"I'm going to go to the mall - I'll be back in an hour!"

Then we moved here. To a small town. To a tiny town. No longer could I get in the car, drive to Target, shop, and be home within half an hour. No longer could I go to the mall and be back in an hour - I can't even drive there & back in an hour, let alone do any shopping!

The new phrase that has entered our conversations is "go to town." I generally "go to town" once a week or so, and it usually eats up half a day. After all, if you're driving 40 minutes to get there, you want to make it worth while.

And so, on Friday, I asked my husband, "I'm going to town today; do you need anything?"

In my head, I was singing, "To market, to market, to buy a fat pig..."