Yesterday I was on the phone with my parents. We talked for a few minutes about a restaurant in Middlebury, VT that had mysteriously caught on fire and burned to the ground. It's stunning, because we have so many memories of that restaurant. I still remember hunting for easter eggs in the creek behind the restaurant when I was 4 or 5.

Back in the 80's, we used to spend a lot of time in Middlebury. My sister and I took pottery lessons at a renovated mill on Saturday mornings. We'd usually also end up at this old soda shop (no longer in operation either) or in one of the several bookstores.

At any rate, I haven't lived in Vermont in well over two years, and it's really strange to see just how much things can change. Even though I spent 19 years in Northern Vermont, I feel a much stronger connection with the southern half of the state. Less people, fewer strip-malls, more trees, small brick towns, white houses. I was only there for four years, but it feels like home.