My little town

So Saturday morning, we're putting down layers of newspaper and the vinyl-backed tablecloth in the car (we have a pee-er and a vomiter), loading the dogs in and heading back to our hometowns. My husband and I grew up five miles apart but didn't really meet until we ended up going to the same college, and didn't start dating until after we'd graduated. More on that later.

My little town is named Canisteo, after one of the native american tribes that settled there (and were later pillaged and rampaged by the settlers).   The name of the town is spelled out in pine trees on a hill overlooking the elementary school. It made it into the Guinness Book of World Records in the 1960s as the world's largest living sign. I was fascinated by it as a kid only because I heard that they brought busses of women prisoners from the jail in Elmira over once a year in the summer to do maintenance work and pruning. Our cross-country course goes up the hill and loops around just under the "A." The hilltop is home to several nests of Turkey Buzzards, who like to circle overhead. It was great fun hosting cross-country meets here because the sheer steepness of that hill along with the buzzards swooping over head really freaked out visiting teams.

There's not much to my little town- only two traffic lights, numerous churches, the VFW, a grocery store, a drive-thru fish fry stand, a drugstore with a penny candy counter, a beautiful creek that wanders around town.  I really couldn't wait to get the hell out of there when I was in high school, and then lo & behold, five years later I moved back so I could go to grad school nearby.  It's really very beautiful and I enjoy going for rambling walks or drives and taking pictures. My dad and I were out driving around some back roads and took these pictures a few years ago.  The snowy one is one street over from my parents' house.