“There’s no place like home”

Home is where you were born.

Home is where your heart is.

Home is where your house is.

Home is where your anchor is.

Home is where you live. 

All of these ring true.

And right now being back in the vicinity of my first home is very special.

Sailing into Biscayne Bay at sunset, and Jr. High friend Diane and husband Kenny waiting for us with champagne was sweet. And my sister and brother in law who still live here are the next best thing to the parents being here. 

The one thing I was regretting was my parents not being here to see us arrive.  Mom and Dad would have been so proud and happy to see us sail El Gato into the bay. They were the reason I love the sea and I never forget that. Dad loved sailing from the time he was very young and sailing on this bay. No bridges to Key Biscayne back then. Mom was a lover of cruising and dad loved to race and cruise. Holidays spent with all 4 kids cruising Bahamas. It stuck with me.

Being on a mooring at the Coconut Grove Sailing Club makes me smile.  Our club, Coral Reef Yacht Club is a long walk down the road and yesterday we did a trifecta. Fuel at Key Biscayne Yacht Club, a cocktail at CRYC and back home to CGSC and dinner on board. 

Being back in the states has its advantages. West marine and grocery stores with anything and everything – wow!  So basically instead of spending all our time enjoying where we are, back in the USA, we are working or I should say Eric is working super hard on replacing solar panels, an alternator, upgrading wiring systems, and a dozen other things that we couldn’t do until now. BFF Gloria of Glotech is onboard guiding and helping Eric through the process.

Finding the balance of work and relaxation is important.  I crashed hard after our teaching charter and caught a cold so I’m getting some much needed R and R and TLC with a hair cut, pedicure, and buying and cooking foods I’ve missed.  Not that we did without, it’s just so much easier here.  So while there is certainly culture shock at the speed and quantity of people, we do get to go back to El Gato and have our quiet time. Except for the Cardinal we named Petey who is a noisy guy and is driving Eric nuts.  He tries to prevent Petey from coming (new meaning for poop deck) and I am out there putting paper towels and taking photos and talking to him.  

Oh and as far as culture shock goes, the Cuban and other Latin American accents surround us and in that sense we re not culturally deprived.  

I love America, feel very fortunate to be from here, to be back here, and hoping Berny teams up with Hillary.  Foreigners we’ve met are scared shitless that we my be stupid enough  to elect an orangutan. I keep assuring them we’re not.  Let’s prove it!

This post was written while waiting for my genius appointment at Apple.  Next blog will be about Abacos. 

But first I have to get my external HD to work!

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