Our own little, little Italy.

We’ve been out here just about a year now.  It’s the first time I ever moved away from Rhode Island, so for my slightly sheltered self, it has created “home” into a word that has multiple locations and meanings.  Is home the place where I grew up?  The place from which I type these words now?

While Connecticut has been the place where Chris and I have taken our relationship to new levels, where careers have found roots, and where my car is parked outside, it’s not completely home.  It’s not entirely familiar.

Home is in Rhode Island, where I rode my bike fast and furiously down the big hills, played in the woods with my brother and sister, and grew up in our family home by the beach.  While I mutter on about how SmallTown my hometown is, with the people that never leave and the “if it’s not here, you don’t need it” mentality, I miss it.

Flowers of Bellevue.Since Chris’s project is keeping him in flux between Rhode Island and New York (with a sojourn to CA coming soon – I’ll need many kind distractions those weeks…), we are spending most of our weekends in RI again.  Lately, with the weather warming up and RI blooming into it’s finest season, I feel like a tourist in my own state, rediscovering my home.

We ventured up to Federal Hill in Providence and had lunch at Cafe Dolce Vita.  A nice antipasto, some ice water, and finishing off with a chocolate lava cake at Jessie’s.  (Granted, my fiance had the lava cake.  I opted for a tamer version, indulging in some chocolate ice cream instead.  And a cappucino.  One and a half hours later – 124 mg/dl.  Take that, blood sugars!)

Later in the weekend, we ended up in Newport, where we saw the beautiful early summer flowers…


… and, of course, the great blooming bear.  (I have no idea what the deal is with this bear, but it was distracting.  And there was a second one riding an electric scooter.  Those Newporters are odd indeed.)

We capped off the weekend with a quick wine tasting at the Newport Vineyards.  (Having eaten lightly all day long, this tasting went straight to my head and I rambled on to Chris the whole car ride home.  Poor guy.)

It was strange, exploring our homestate as though it were new.  There was something about seeing the towns through “different” eyes that made us appreciate our true RI home even more.

Maybe I’m a little homesick lately.