My first thought as I rolled into town this past Friday was... "Really? Am I ready for this... again?" Fortunately I did not have to pressure myself with an answer to that question because whether I was ready or not - here I was.
Driving down Market Street (you could imagine this to be the "hot spot" of the city) I saw the traditional characters I've grown to know over the years. I'll explain more about them in blogs to come. I laughed out loud remembering stories these characters cameo-ed in my past years here. Who needs cable tv with this bunch roaming the streets? (Really. Cousins should not procreate.)
The minute I waltz into the little Italian restaurant I used to give 50+ hours to weekly they asked if I needed a job. I do though I have yet to accept. It's as though keeping myself jobless allows me the indulgence of pretending I'm not really staying. As my thoughts trail north and to the life I recently left I have to pull myself back to reality and ask... Really, is it all that bad living in a small town?
As I ponder this question in blogs to come I encourage you all (all 2 of you who might check this blog every 5 or 6 months) to remember where you grew up... the sights, the sounds, the smells, the feeling you got when you discovered your town had an ice cream shop, or the things that you used to look forward to before you found the big world outside your home-base-neighborhood. Is it possible for life to be that simple and simply wonderful once more?
1 comment:
Although I didn't have a "hometown" to speak of, since we moved around so much, this post reminded me of the Beaches and pestered me with an itch to visit again. :)
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