I sat on my porch early yesterday evening, reading my book as I listened to the breeze moving through the trees and the squeals of little children at the barbecue across the street. I’d just gotten back from my own holiday gatherings, where I enjoyed homemade sangria, pastries from the North End, and perhaps the richest (and warmest and best and most amazingly sinful, thanks to Mark’s decision to incorporate four kinds of chocolate) brownies I’ve ever tasted. I ate too much and felt absolutely no remorse. I can be in training mode all I want, but nothing counts on holidays. And even if it does, I just don’t care.

It was a heavenly three-day weekend, the kind that I wish I could bottle up and save for a cruel and bitter Tuesday in, say, February. Memorial Day weekend was a great example of why living in New England through all of those cold months is ultimately worthwhile.

It was warm without being uncomfortably hot. I worked, I played, and I was even able to get enough sleep for once. I picked up a new pair of Chuck Taylors. I spent a little time in the Green Monster. I took in live music. I bought the bag I thought I’d coveted and lost (Brooklyn Industries H Bag. I’d been longing for it since I saw reference on Petit Hiboux. I knew I needed it in my life once I saw an owl print. I went to buy it online and it was sold out. But there’s now a store on Newbury Street!). I went for my first Five Squares run of the 2010 training season* and felt great. My roommate and I happened upon an amazing farm and market in Lexington, where I bought kale and later baked kale chps. And did I mention that there were four kinds of chocolate in those brownies?

At one point during the weekend – Friday night, I believe – I walked through Davis Square on my way home. The air smelled like the waffle cones being served at JP Lick’s. Christmas lights twinkled in the tree branches as people sat on benches or milled about. The busker with a penchant for Simon and Garfunkel – more due to an appreciation for Art than that for Paul – was humming the opening to “America.” People were filing in and out of the Somerville Theatre or riding their bikes along the streets. And as I took this all in, it almost seemed impossible to grasp that this was my neighborhood: my quirky, cool, comfortable, and altogether charming nook of the world. And that I might get frustrated with life sometimes, but overall? I have it amazingly good.

*Five Squares runs feature travel through Davis, Porter, Harvard, Central and Kendall squares.