One hour, five minutes, fifty-three seconds

Best phone call in a long, long time. Real, deep life conversations with someone. A few glasses of red wine, cold toes next to the fire, a big sweatshirt. Stars in the sky and a cool breeze across the tilled corn field. (See the Happy List for more.)

I'm a country girl at heart. I've lived in the city for a solid four years now and sometimes the thing I miss most is dirt. Being barefoot in the summer. The smell of fields and fallen leaves in the fall. The pristine snow in the winter. The mud between your toes in the spring. That's the best way I can sum up why I miss being home so much.

I love Boston, I love my life there, but as much as it's my home base, especially right now, it will never be my home.

Update: It feels like 2 am. It's really not even 11pm yet. I don't know if it's the fact that I worked an overnight at Banana last night or if it's being in NH, where the pace of life is completely different, that is causing the sensation.

I feel completely content right now. My mind is quiet (mostly). My body is relaxed. I don't feel any time pressure. I don't feel any anxiety about what's happening or what could happen or what will need to happen tomorrow. Just watching the Sox game, folding my little brother's laundry while the embers die out in the fire.