We spent the weekend in Carmel, where you can pass an entire day chatting with strangers about their Labradors and reading The New Yorker on the beach. Strolling into town for a latte, you’ll note a tide of applique sweaters and track suits (many of them on the Labradors). We took long neighborhood walks; donned fleece pullovers and played frisbee on the beach; drank wine out of red plastic cups around a bonfire.
Last night, we drove back to the city. As we pulled up to our apartment, I remembered leaving the house a few days ago to find a man pissing near our front stoop.
No place like home.
Mighty Girl 