I'm not so good with words (hence my profession), but with a quirky place like marfa that rises up to greet you, it's easy to feel comfortable.  Even easier thanks to the lovely ladies I got to meet, got to know, came to call my friends.  I doesn't seem as though as many days have passed since we all parted ways.  It all went much too fast and upon returning home, the chaos of the normal everyday life returns.  I miss the slower pace of marfa.  The simpler ways.  A place where you can make a sign in the laundromat out of children's magnets... and no one ever steals them.  A place where they name their washers and driers, you know, so you don't forget that your pants aren't quite done but George is working on it.  And don't steal Stephanie the washer, I'm using her next.