Various hues of homesickness

I like to listen to the radio at night if I happen to have trouble falling asleep, so I keep a little one with earbuds under my pillow. Last night I caught a story on NPR about L.A. returning water to the Owens Valley, and heard Mayor Villaraigosa's enchanting voice parodying Mulholland by saying "There it is... it's yours!" And there, suffused in half-sleep, I had another wave of homesickness. Certain words are magically Californian, they interviewed a representative from the Paiute Shoshone tribe, I miss the Indian names. They filed the report from Lone Pine, memories of a birthday spent in Death Valley and the trip back up California along the sunrise side of the Sierras.
I can never predict when nostalgia like this will strike, or what form it will take. I had a craving a few weeks back for oatmeal raisin muffins, a staple baked good in California and especially at the MU at UC Davis, and then found out you couldn't find anything like it here, or if you did it was a pretty dry affair. So I took out the trusty Joy of Cooking, found the recipe, and I've been gorging on them since (they're very good for you too). Anything made with 3/4 c. honey, 1/3 c. molasses and THEN some brown sugar to boot has to rock. Leaving California, I knew I would miss the Asian cuisine, who ever thought those muffins would come to mind.
I sometimes tune into the San Francisco NPR affiliate, KQED, via the internet when I'm doing the books on the computer at night. It usually coincides with the evening commute hour in the Bay Area (I don't miss that) but the street names are evocative, the Yerba Buena offramp, El Camino Real... On these cold mornings I've been wearing my Davis biking gloves, basically light skiing shell gloves meant to ward off rain rather than blisters, and here they're a bit overkill (I don't bike in the rain here). I still look like the consummate Davis cyclist, straps for my pant cuffs, reflective stuff all over, here I really stick out. I read the Davis Co-op News at lunch yesterday front to back, I actually pored over the suggestions and answers in the back, oh I know right where that shelf is, yeah those pitas were good, what, Micaela's tortilla machine is down? oh no! man I miss those bulk raisins in their vintage wood bin with the squished ones around it on the floor. Of course the Co-op really was the nexus for many satisfying experiences, social, culinary and otherwise.
Mike and I often puzzle at why there is no place here with a simple $5 thai chicken salad like we used to get at Bernardo's, let alone Thursday spinach special or Friday Fesenjon from Ali Baba (what a steal that was! I had left feeling like I'd had enough for a lifetime, but I'm over it). Another thing I miss? The UC Davis campus bookstore art department, amazing what three aisles can pack that a whole Michaels fails to carry.
Ok ok you get the picture.