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What speaks home most strongly to you?

It's an interesting question, one I've been thinking about for years.

When Corey and I left Minnesota in February 1994, I shook the snow off my boots and muttered, "Good riddance!" I had my sights set on California and the ocean and the glory of year-round sunshine. I saw Minnesota as nothing but the warming box (yes, that's a joke) that allowed me to grow and mature until I was ready to greet the bigger world.

How wrong I was.

During our years in California (and yes, I'm blocking out the eight months we spent in Phoenix, because it deserves no less), I learned -- to my shock and amazement -- that Minnesota had lodged itself far deeper into my marrow than I ever realized. I started to miss the change of the seasons. I longed for some true wilderness, some place where I could see green trees and blue water and no people. I started to pounce on fellow Minnesotans whenever I found them, hoping to trade stories and wishes. "You going back for the State Fair this year? Yeah, me neither. Sure would like some Sweet Martha's cookies though. Did you ever get a whole bucket and then eat them outside of the All-You-Can-Drink Milk booth?"

It was home. I missed my home.

Eventually, as you know, Corey and I moved back to Minnesota. Moving home isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when you're not even sure you want to make that leap.

But leap we did, because we needed a job, and the only door that had opened was one in Minnesota.

And now, because we are here, I'm getting to watch as my own children get Minnesota in their DNA, just as I did when I was little.

For the rest of the story, check out my 5 Minutes for Parenting post today.

And tell me -- what speaks home most strongly to you?