As I stepped up to the window to order a sundae (which I had forgotten means "alternating layers of ice cream and corn flakes"), the clerk turned around to automatically say the equivalent of, "May I take your order?" but stopped mid-thought, and instead, in impeccable English, greeted me with, "Oh, hi!"
We had met last week when I was asking about the farmer's market, and it wasn't that hard for her to remember me. So, we chatted.
Later, she took her break at "my" picnic table out back, and satisfied her curiosity regarding where I live. Yes, she's heard about the German lady who lives behind the hardware store.
I learned a little bit of her story as well. She likes riding horses, and once spent two weeks in Montana on a horseback riding holiday.
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