life in a northern town...

Over the atlantic and through north america, I'm finally home again.

Homer for the holidays... Home in the 49th state, as far west as you can drive on the continent, in my cozy little hometown at the moment all shrouded in snow. It could possibly be the best place in the world to spend Christmas. Too small to be too busy, too few stores to be overrun by consumerism, too cold to draw pesky tourists.

It's an odd place, a dear place and a one-of-a-kind place. A place where almost everybody knows your name (even after six years away) and they definitely all know someone you know. A place where you can wear whatever you want and no one cares about status. A place where you can't tell the mayor from the garbage man, and the postman is also the local theatre star. A town with enough talent to pull off a full-fledged production of the Nutcracker every year that the locals wouldn't miss... A little town with three museums, eight coffee shops, and more art galleries than organized churches.

It's a place that comfortingly never really changes, although every time I come back there's something new and controversial. Last year it was the first and only stoplight – this year a Starbucks has invaded. We'll see how long it takes for the independent coffee roasters to run it out of town. Homer has a history of successfully ejecting fast-food joints – Dairy Queen, Burger King and Pizza Hut all couldn't make it. Only McDonald's and Subway have survived. But Starbucks only snuck it's way in by embedding itself with a grocery store chain. I have mixed feelings – in foreign countries and big US cities Starbucks is something good and familiar, but here it just doesn't belong.

Isn't it cold there? People ask. Well, yes, I suppose. But all the better for staying home wrapped in a cozy bathrobe with hot cocoa by the fire. Isn't it snowy? Well yes, but that's why we have garages and snow machines and woolly mittens. Isn't it dark? Well yes, but all the more reason for everyone to put up Christmas lights. Plus it makes for better viewing of the stars and the aurora borealis...

I love winter, and snow, and Christmas. It's a season that feels like a big warm hug at the end of the year to me -- remembering the greatest gift. It makes me sad to know it's not that feeling for everyone. Someone asked me with a sigh not long ago, "Do you really think there's any Christmases left like the ones in the old movies?" Feeling both sad and incredibly fortunate, I said "yes".

There's no place, no family and no season in life that's perfect. But my December at the end of the road comes pretty close.

It's snowing again...

:: "From quiet homes and first beginning, out to the undiscovered ends, there's nothing worth the wear of winning, but laughter and the love of friends." – Hilaire Belloc