Mao and I spent the weekend in Santa Barbara with my dear godmother. It was a lovely, lovely trip. I fell in love with the company, the town, the sound of the church bells from the mission, the persimmon tree in the backyard, the unseasonal weather, everything. And despite of my enamored state, I still adore Oregon more.
I am unabashed Oregonian and upon returning to Portland, greeted by the rain and cooler weather, I felt at home. In past trips, I would dread the return flight, not quite ready to leave the food and environs of wherever I happened to be. But, now I love flying into the city, riding the Max into town, meandering home. Traveling for me means fully embracing the people and places I visit, while secretly realizing I might not be able to live anywhere but Portland.
Tomatoes on the Vine 
So glad you had a wonderful time. Now, what does one do with persimmons other than admire them?