Erin and I went up to San Anselmo in Marin county last weekend to see a production of Moonlight and Magnolias, which was a wonderful evening. What struck me, however, is how rosy my rear-view mirror has become. The playhouse was an old-tymey barn, it was a little chilly, and I noticed another audience member sipping hot cocoa. Whenever it gets a little chilly I think fondly of New Hampshire in the winter, despite my disinterest whenever I spend more than a handful of days there.
If I sit back and think about whether I'd be happy living there, the answer is no. There's just not enough varied things going on for my tastes. But it's wonderful to know that there is somewhere out there that feels like home, even if I get restless within a week.