Oysterville Store and Post Office, 2006

Most mornings we review our plans for the day over coffee – where and what our meals will be, what appointments we have, what projects we’ll work on.  We also decide whether or not we’ll walk to get our mail, assuming we’ll be in town and that the weather is fairly cooperative.

It’s less than half a mile from our house to the Oysterville Post Office and, even if we make it an easy stroll, it only should only take ten or fifteen minutes.  If we hurry, we can make it there and back with our mail and maybe a bag of chips from the store in twenty.  Having said that, though, it usually takes forty-five minutes to an hour, depending upon the number of “Oysterville Meetings” along the way.

Another Oysterville Meeting

Day before yesterday we left the house at 9:30 and got back at 11:30.  Two hours!  The day was beautiful and everyone in the world seemed to be out and about.  Right off the bat we ran into Tucker at the corner of Territory Road and School Street.  We talked to him about progress on his house – the sheet rocking is done and the tapers are there.  He’s arranging for the next step which is the siding.

While we were still talking, Cyndy came along in her car, headed back to her temporary home after checking on building progress on her new place.  We spent a few minutes talking about the Willapa Bay Artist in Residence pilot program which is in progress right now, and about the Open House they will be having Saturday afternoon.

We had scarcely rounded the corner onto Oysterville Road before a van approached us and Nyel said, “It’s the cousins!”  Sure enough, it was the Ross Family – Ken, the Cape D. Park Ranger, his wife Marijka, their three kids, Max, Madison and Mason, and Marijka’s folks.  We did a short “how’s it going” visit while cars went around us, and we learned that they are completely moved in now and that Ken is no longer the newest kid on the block, job-wise.

Oysterville Post Office

From that point we had no further encounters until we were leaving the Post Office.  Charlie Talbott was there and asked on behalf of his dad how one goes about making a donation to the Oysterville Cemetery.  We talked for quite a bit about our little cemetery, why his folks chose it for their final resting place, and what each of us might or might not do when the time comes.  It’s an unusual way to get to know someone, but I did feel like I was better acquainted with Charlie as we said, “See you later.”

The walk homeward was uneventful until just in front of the Stoner house when a car approached, slowed down, and an attractive woman passenger said, “Hi, Sydney!”  It turned out to be Karen Garrett who used to live in the area but was visiting from Hawaii.  I’d never have recognized her (Face Blindness again!) but we had a short catch-up visit, especially regarding a neighbor who has recently been diagnosed with cancer.

It was only a hop homeward then, but as we approached the last little way we saw Tucker again, this time with his wife, Carol.   So, of course, we had to spend a few minutes for the last ‘meeting’ of the morning! Hard to believe that by then it was almost lunchtime!