Well, we're home again, home again, already, and it's back to whatever passes for normal life around here. Emptying the dishwasher. Making coffee. Letting the dog out. And in. And out. And in.
This is one of the very few times I haven't been all that excited to get home, despite what I said yesterday about appreciating it after you've been away. A trip to Asheville (or its Mini-Me, Carrboro, NC) is either too little or too much. This one was too little, I could have spent another day or two easily.
So what does a "too-much" trip look like? I wouldn't know personally, but I imagine it would be one in which you were willing to just walk away from whatever home was and start over in this new place that you've fallen in love with.
I spent a good part of the drive home comparing Asheville to Carrboro, imagining myself living in each of them. Asheville is hillier, bigger, there's more traffic. Carrboro is much more walkable/bikable and has a small-town ambience that's very comfortable for me.
It's all a fantasy, though. The house and property in southern West Virginia that I call home is bought and paid for, and would probably be difficult to sell. Besides, where I live doesn't really matter, I'm going to be dragging my ass along with me wherever I go. Heh. Wherever you go, there you are.
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