My little family.  We spent the weekend missing LA (as well as lots of other things).  I hate that we’re not adjusting quite as well as we maybe ought to be.  No place is perfect, obviously, but the weather and the general anxiety of New York was something I hadn’t remembered or felt when I was here the first time.  California, true to silly sayings, is more laid-back.  

I was pumped on the mass transit after years of cars and crowded freeways, but all the little hitches and hiccups in subway lines evoke the same sort of feeling in the pit of your stomach.  Plus, in NYC it makes for a long, cold walk home, or a cab that refuses to take you.

Bottom line would be, moving simply isn’t as much fun as it used to be.  I really did love it for SO long—new places, people, jobs, things.  But California really became home, and as I sit here watching Kitty Viv stare out the windows at the gray sky I can’t help but remember her days in the sun on our patio, sleeping in a flower box under the roses and jasmine.  

I cannot wait for summer.


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