Vacationing in the Buckeye State

So I’m back home in Ohio.

I find it interesting psychologically to see that I refer to it as home, even though I haven’t lived in Ohio in the last 4 years, and have only lived there 2 of the last 11 years. But still, it’s where I grew up. And I lived there 18 years of my life, which means San Jose won’t eclipse Beavercreek as the place I’ve lived the longest until 2019.

It’s shockingly green out here. Just green everywhere. The corn is almost ready, and the golden tassels are taller than me, in neat green rows that float on as far as you can see. My parent’s house sits on 5.4 acres, which isn’t that much land, until you realize that Oakridge Mall isn’t even on 5 acres of land.

I like coming back home. It’s quiet out here. Nicole and I drove to Hollywood Video along the back, country winding roads surrounded by forests and green trees and acres of manicured grass. This afternoon, I sat on the porch swing with Justus during a summer thunderstorm, watching the rain pour down and the wind whip the branches around. Justus was mesmerized. So was I, in a different kind of way. There’s something profoundly calming about storms in the Midwest. It calms me. I can’t really explain why.

There isn’t much to do around here, but we don’t care. I’m looking to not do a whole lot because this is the last vacation I’ll have until Thanksgiving. My parents are loving playing with Justus, and I have a feeling that leaving next Tuesday is going to be harder than any time I’ve ever left home before. Especially for my mom.

But it’s going well. Dad used his smoker to smoke some chicken breasts with apple wood branches. It was probably the best chicken I’ve ever had, besides the time the Zimans spent most of a day making beer can chicken. Mom made homemade peach cobbler. And sweet corn will be filling up Farmer’s Markets any day now, along with deep-red tomatoes that taste best cut into slices with a little salt, pepper and olive oil.

It’s good to be home. I plan on reading a whole bunch and just resting. And this is the perfect place for it.

Like my best friend Jon once said, "Ohio is a fine place to be from."