How Do You Tell the Newfoundlander in Heaven?

We are packing up and getting ready to head south on Wednesday afternoon. This is always the most bittersweet moment for me: while I am usually totally worn out by the summer's activities and the fact that my life is open to the public from Thursday to Sunday, 10 am to 6 pm for eight weeks, I hate leaving. I hate not being able to make long-term commitments here, always having to cut things short. I will miss the air, the mountains and bay out the front windows, the autumn, the winter (yes, I love snow and cold weather--I loved every moment of our winter here in '05!). I will miss the people who make living here so satisfying and complete. I will miss how F&L can run free, cross the street, walk to the store, and play all day outside without me worrying (too much). Safe to say, I will miss it all.

I have studiously refused to let my mind wander into "I don't want to leave--this is my HOME" territory, but as push comes to shove, I have to let myself have a good cry and then try to get excited about all the grand adventures of life in NYC. The best of both worlds, as many have said. I have found one world that I really like--can't I stay here??

P.S. Although I won't be able to write more until 9/17 or thereabouts, there is much more to think about regarding culture and its representation/consumption. I hope our dialogue can continue.

P.P.S the title of this post comes from a joke: Q. how do you tell the Newfoundlander in heaven? A. they are the one that wants to go home.