Ah, the Midwest. The heartland of America. Blue collar work by day, bonfires by night. Everything you see in the movies, TV, news and photos from the Midwest is true: corn fields, cows and a lot of land. The people are friendlier, the land is cheaper and hard work is as common as cotton candy at a carnival.
I grew up in St. Louis -- not so much the country, but we did 4-wheel around the dirt and dunes in what's known as "the Bottoms" during high school. That's for another day. It's no secret, however, that I wasn't always fond of St. Louis. But that's where Mom, Dad, sister and Grama live, and so I travel back a few times a year. Don't judge... they enjoy coming to Boston so I do see my family more than a "few times" a year.
This weekend I travel back to the Midwest. Where everything is slower. They talk slower, they walk slower, they drive slower (except for my sister, she drives like she is in Manhattan fighting cabbies) -- they live slower. I duck into grocery stores and hide my face behind the produce to avoid running into people from high school. I look twice when I pull into a gas station to make sure an ex-boyfriend isn't sitting as cashier. After 48 hours I usually start itching; at 72 hours I'm in hives. God bless my family - they always have wine waiting.
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