I went to a party last week and fell in love.

Not with a handsome dark-haired stranger, but with something I never expected.

I’ve been planning our social calendar to include events like the Woodburn Historic Mansion Gala in October, the Starr Fall Festival in November, the Meals on Wheels Mardi Gras in February and all the balls throughout the winter.

When we moved here, I thought there wasn’t a lot to do. I’ve realized lately, that there are hidden treasures here.

My social calendar for the “season” started with the Wine and Cheese Reception for artists at the Anderson County Museum.

I wasn’t really that excited about it. A lot of stuffed shirts standing around discussing the importance of a piece of art, or of the social impact of a particular exhibit, I thought.

Boy, was I wrong.

I overheard discussions about Cheerwine. I chatted with Councilman Michael Thompson as he relaxed in a rocking chair on the front porch of the museum’s gift store. I talked to some wonderful women about one-room schoolhouses. I ate some really great food.

And I fell in love.

For more than an hour, I sat and stared in love with the Sally A. Rose miniature house in the middle of the museum.

The 1-inch to 1-foot replica of the house is complete down to the silver and crystal on the tables, and tiny bars of soap on the kitchen sink. For an hour, ladies and gentlemen there at the party with me marveled at the detail and the beauty of a life we only saw from the outside.

For some time now, that’s how I felt here, like an outsider looking in. The people whom I spoke to that night helped open my eyes to my new perspective — I’m really on the inside looking out.

Finding that little hidden treasure was a gift, I decided. In fact, the whole evening was.

I expected snobbery and pretentious conversation. Instead, I found wonderful people more than willing to talk to a wallflower like me and draw me out of my shell. I found residents who wanted to discuss real stuff — like what it was like to move here from “away,” or how good the local production of “Dracula” was supposed to be.

All the evening lacked was a bright red ribbon and bow.

But the gifts kept coming.

This past Thursday, I ran, literally, from a community meeting straight into the Anderson Area Chamber of Commerce’s Black and White Ball, changing from capris to a ball gown on the way.

I felt like Cinderella.

One minute I’m in a high school cafeteria, the next I’m on a darkened dance floor in front of a gourmet meal. It was surreal. It was beautiful. It was an amazing evening.

And I fell in love all over again.

At the meeting, I reveled in the community spirit and the passion of people who get involved with their community.

At the ball, I found myself talking about BalloonFest, and how much my family enjoyed ourselves at this wonderful free event. And I realized, that night, that what I was in love with wasn’t individual events.

I’m in love with Anderson County.

There’s so much the county has to offer. It’s not all politics and pundits. It’s really none of that at all.

Anderson County is Soiree, and black-tie balls and BalloonFest. It’s the museum, and the Arts Center, and the local drama scene. Its kids’ sports, tractor shows and highland flings. Anderson is recognizing people in the grocery store and having a 20-minute conversation in the produce section. Its gossiping with your son’s teammate’s grandmother about the cute umpire.

Anderson is a group of people coming together to better their neighborhood, or volunteering their time to mow 22 acres of athletic fields. Anderson is “How are ya?” shouted across a fence, and people calling you by name from across the cashier’s counter.

Every time I turn around, it seems, there’s another gift Anderson County has given me. And like a lover’s kiss, they’re all given freely and without strings.

Is it any wonder I’ve fallen in love?