We all know the saying "home is where the heart is." But what happens when home doesn't feel like home anymore? It happened when we were coming home from our trip at the beginning of the month. As we came back to Abbotsford, I (Dan) had this overwhelming feeling of disappointment at coming home. Now this wasn't the usual sadness at coming at the end of a trip; rather it was a feeling of depression, if you will, at the thought of Abbotsford. I don't mean to say that this is a bad town to live (despite the Bacon brothers attempts to prove otherwise) but it has lost its attraction and pull over me.
Amanda and I have both discussed more than a few times the thought of moving to a small town somewhere out of the grip of the Fraser Valley. Be it up north in a town like Smithers or Vanderhoof, or over on the island. We long for the relaxed way of life and generosity that seems to come inherent with small towns. A quick story to prove the point: at the wedding (in Smithers) while talking to another guest he told of how while camping on the brides parents farm his sons went out quading. Unfortunately they didn't have enough quads, but the father of the bride said not to worry, that the neighbors had a quad that he could use. He then proceeded to tell him where the shop was, where in the shop the quad and key were, and that the neighbor wouldn't mind that he borrowed the quad without even needing to ask.
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