I thought for my inaugural post, it might be good to tell you exactly why I love being a parent in Salisbury.

When I was a teenager, I hated it here. It felt like you couldn’t sneeze without your mother finding out. I grew up in Wilton, which was even worse than Salisbury for everyone knowing everyone. It irritated me that I couldn’t just be faceless.

Now I’m older, and a parent; and I love it here. Being a parent can be a fairly lonely business at times; you can’t go out drinking on a Saturday night with your friends, those last-minute cinema visits are out, and even shopping requires an inordinate amount of planning. I don’t know about you, but I often find myself wandering about town without a great deal to do, and perhaps feeling a little sorry for myself.

This is where Salisbury triumphs over a lot of other places:

The ladies in Boots who remember my daughter from last year, when she was so tiny that people often didn’t even realise I was carrying a baby in a sling. They always say hi to both of us, and always comment on how big she’s getting.

The lady on the chemist counter who never needs to ask my name when I go to pick up a prescription – because she was my guide leader, briefly, twenty years ago.

The staff in Costa who often have my coffee started before I even get to the counter.

The lady who stopped me in Tesco once, asking to see my new baby, because she worked with my sister and had heard I’d had her early.

The neighbour who, upon hearing that I was alone with a small baby, insisted on bringing me a roast dinner every Sunday.

I live in one of the apparently “roughest” parts of Salisbury, but people always stop to help me up and down the steps with the pushchair.

In the Journal recently, there was a story about people leaving Pizza Hut without paying, and another about some people skipping out of a taxi without paying.

Don’t you love it that you live somewhere that this sort of thing is news? It is so out of the ordinary, happens so rarely, that people are outraged by it! Don’t you love that there’s space in the paper to report it? I’m sure a lot of other local newspapers are too full of muggings, stabbings, murders, con men and whatever else that is infinitely more exciting than someone running out without paying a bill in a restaurant.

It used to infuriate me that nothing “exciting” ever happened around here. Now I think my definition of “exciting” has changed, and I have to say, I much prefer it here. It’s a fantastic place to raise children because even if you’re not there, you can guarantee someone will always be keeping an eye out.

Give me Smallsbury any day!

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