For the past several weeks, we have been engaged in a rather remarkable, and surprisingly life-altering process: moving into a new home.

We say surprisingly, in part, because the move was not a large one in terms of distance -- we simply moved from one side of the community we've lived in for the past three-and-a-half years to another -- and yet everything is different.

In real terms, we can now walk to the main street that until late September, we could only drive to; the supermarkets we shop at are still the same, as are the restaurants we frequent.

And yet we find ourselves drawn to the local hardware store, as much for the pleasure of associating with the local business folk as for the necessity of coping with moving needs.

Finding ourselves in need of napkins the other day, we walked down to the local deli, a place that has become a regular destination in a very short time.

Last Friday, we stopped at a local landmark, romantically called the Shipwreck Diner, for a prolonged breakfast at the start of a leisurely day.

None of these little trips, in and of themselves, is very profound, we know. And yet everything we thought we felt about our hometown is different. A move of a few miles? It may as well have been 2,000 miles. Where before home signified one thing, now it truly signifies home. It's amazing... without changing our zip code, we have an entirely new sense of place.

It really is amazing to see one's old hometown new again. In fact, it is an experience we wish on all of you -- without the achy back and fear of glass breakage we experienced along the way.