A Tourist’s Eye View

     My mother taught me not to do it, but sometimes I can’t help it.  In tiny restaurants where your table all but touches the ones on either side, how can you keep from listening in?  Especially if you are alone or with someone who hasn’t much to say.  I try to look like I’m not paying the slightest bit of attention.  But sometimes it’s all I can do not to enter right into the conversation!
     The greatest challenge to my self-control in the matter of eavesdropping is when the tourists peer into our garden or walk down the adjacent lane commenting on Oysterville, its history, its present condition, even on its residents.  And there I am, hunkered down in the flower beds, weeding along and minding my own business – thinking about slugs and invasive morning glory vines and other important things – when I hear my name or something about oysters or Espys or the church across the street.  Sometimes I try not to listen but mostly I try not to leap up from my camouflaged position and say, “Well, as a matter of fact…”
     At other times, when I’m fully visible, I’m often asked questions.  I try to answer if I can.  I remember so many wonderful experiences I’ve had when I’ve been traveling – people have gone out of their way to make sure I caught the right bus or found the circuitous route to an obscure landmark.  So, I consider it a kind of payback to try to make someone’s visit here more meaningful.  And one thing about the visitors who come to Oysterville – almost without exception they are interested in history.  So, to my way of thinking – almost without exception, they are terrific!