In true nomadic style, we up and moved again. Possibly because of the pandemic. More likely because relocating has historically been a way of life for me. I tried to resist those urges. For years I tried. So far I cannot resist trying out the new and relegating what was to fond memories.
We had some great memories in Republic. We also had some pretty bad ones. Ronnie dying is one of the bad. The sense of community was one of the good. The worst was the amount of passing that took place due to the Big Virus. I nearly joined the departed. It kind of soured a lot of our experience.
Everyone who knows me well knows that I prefer sub tropical climates. I found out that I had the credit and the income to purchase a home where it stays warm, mostly. I did. Most of the technical stuff, as well as the physical moving stuff, took place while my bride and I were still under the devastating effects of the dreaded Covid. It was an ordeal and an adventure all combined.
So here I write from my office in sunny central Florida. It is the cold time of the year. Cold here is relative, and relatively short lived. Back at our house in Washington it is 15 degrees and cold. Here it is 50 degrees and we feel that as cold. Two weeks ago we were in the backyard swimming pool. Not today. That’s ok.
If you follow, and so few of you do, I just wanted to update you. I am getting back into my writing head space. I have to push back the urgency of what seems necessary but really isn’t. It is a work in progress. If you haven’t as yet given up on the simple celt, please stick around. I always try to keep it interesting. At least the locations are always different. Who knows, next time I write we might be in Bora Bora.