My love sends me greetings from an internet cafe.   He's walking the alpine meadows without me this week.  He tells me about all I'm missing there in Northern California.  He says my tribe is there.  Don't I know it.  Sometimes I wonder about this life in the heartland, where I have to travel for an hour to find a food coop, where I'm surrounded by flat farm fields, where I can only recycle 1s and 2s when the world is full of 5s and 6s, where national candidates don't bother to stump because they know who'll carry the vote (and there is absolutely no pun intended there--this is gwland), where my faith community is an oasis in a land of people who believe far different things than I.  But this is home, and my job is to find the commonalities and weave community, and this is minor compared to what most people have to deal with, right?