This is one of a batch of memoirs I picked up when I went to get an item from my to read list from the shelf instead of putting it on hold. Which is to say, I knew nothing about it (and picked it up despite the pull-quote implying that it was for Southerners and people who wanted to live in New York, which contrary to the probably New York-based publisher's delusion, is not universal.)

In any case, it was a pleasant read, and the universality of liking where you live but not being *of* that will be familiar to anyone who has moved away from home but not quite settled. Very pleasant, and it almost makes me want to buy a silk nightgown.