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\u00a0Nostalgia has been creeping into my psyche lately.\u00a0 In the wake of a house under construction and impending interstate move, I find myself reminiscing about the places I have called home.\u00a0 Although I feel it\u2019s best not to live in the past, I believe that understanding where you\u2019ve been is beneficial in understanding where you are going.\u00a0 And so I willingly welcome this trip down memory lane.<\/p>\n
This One Is Too Small<\/span><\/span> This One is Too Big<\/span> This One is Just Right<\/span> Home\u2026so, what is that exactly?\u00a0 Where you lay your head?\u00a0 Where you hang your hat?\u00a0 Where the heart is?\u00a0 In my travels I have felt perfectly at home in all sorts of places:\u00a0 a flat in Edinburgh, a house in Provence, a farm in Tuscany, an apartment in Paris.\u00a0 Were it not for well-loved dogs back at home I could have easily become an international squatter refusing to leave the comforts of these fine abodes.\u00a0 But in the end, home for me is very clear.\u00a0 Home is where my toes hit the sand; my husband at my side, our dogs playing in the surf,\u00a0and watching the sun slowly ascend from the deep blue ocean to usher in a new lowcountry day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00a0Nostalgia has been creeping into my psyche lately.\u00a0 In the wake of a house under construction and impending interstate move, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[61],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nI was born and raised in a small town on the south-side of Middle America, and I am fairly certain that I emerged from the womb in immediate search of a plane ticket to a new destination.\u00a0 Born into a family of transplanted Yankees and Brazilians, the tales of northeastern summers and the white sand beaches of Rio made me long for a change of scenery from a very young age.\u00a0 My hometown wasn\u2019t all bad.\u00a0 It had a charm in its old homes, tall oaks and country roads.\u00a0 But I never felt that I was of this place.\u00a0 Its vast distance from any shore, major city, or airport for that matter did not bode well for a girl with a thirst\u00a0for adventure. I bade farewell once I was of age and did not look back\u2026.. That is until now.\u00a0 With the infinite advancement of modern technology I am virtually transported\u00a0to street-level of a town I once knew.\u00a0 Like bumping into an old acquaintance whose face is familiar but whose name is long forgotten, I wander about trying to remember the place I see but cannot\u00a0recognize\u00a0what it has become.\u00a0 A shell of its former self.\u00a0 Graffiti on what had been the gleaming alabaster wall surrounding my grandmother\u2019s Spanish architecture home.\u00a0 Lovely Victorian ladies with fairytale stained glass windows are now disintegrating termite feeding grounds.\u00a0 Cracked, weed-filled sidewalks and roads give the indication that the town I left behind may be dying.\u00a0 I never desired to return, but I am saddened by its apparent demise.<\/p>\n
\nI know that I was meant to live in this big southern city.\u00a0 The minute I arrived it opened its arms to wrap me in a comforting bear hug and invited me to stay a while.\u00a0 I was smitten.\u00a0 People, motion, energy, lights!\u00a0 Museums, dining, theatre, music!\u00a0 A corporate Mecca of abundant opportunity.\u00a0 A world-class international airport.\u00a0 Beaches within driving distance.\u00a0 Everything a person could need!\u00a0 I settled in, made great friends, built a career, bought a house, married a wonderful man, and made good use of the airport to visit faraway places.\u00a0 Oh, and another thing — I got older.\u00a0 In the blink of an eye twenty five years has passed.\u00a0 Was traffic always this bad?\u00a0 Where did all these people come from?\u00a0 Has it always this aggressive?\u00a0 Why is it such a hassle to get downtown for a show?\u00a0 Does no one wave “hello” anymore??\u00a0 Has it always been this cold here in the winter????\u00a0 <\/i>I got older\u2026.perhaps less patient\u2026and definitely more appreciative of quiet contemplation and a warm peaceful sunrise.\u00a0 I know that I was meant to live here.\u00a0 To meet these people; to have this life.\u00a0 But my city and I are now at a cross-road.\u00a0 Salt air called and I had to answer.<\/p>\n
\nIf you arrive in the lowcountry and aren\u2019t driven away by flying palmettos, biting gnats, the occasional alligator, or the threat of the one-hundred-year storm, you\u2019re probably in the right place.\u00a0 And I knew it the first time I walked its sandy shores and the cobbled streets of centuries-old cities like Charleston, Savannah, and Beaufort.\u00a0 This is quintessentially southern.\u00a0 This is culture steeped in history and mystery.\u00a0 This is the juxtaposition of preservation and growth.\u00a0 This is where I want to be.\u00a0 Grand dame live oaks draped in Spanish moss and often intertwined with coastal palms in an infinite embrace.\u00a0 Words gorgeously dripping from the tongues of the \u201cborn here\u201d like fine local honey; bless her heart <\/em>and y\u2019all come back<\/em>.\u00a0 Haute cuisine and fried chicken from the same kitchen being served to bankers in business suits and sailors in shorts.\u00a0 The\u00a0ebb and flow of the tides.\u00a0\u00a0The sway of dune grasses in the Atlantic breeze.\u00a0 The smell of pluff mud on the marshes.\u00a0 An infinite number of waterways, back roads, and historic places await exploration\u2026 but a back yard oyster roast or crabbing from a dock are also perfectly acceptable ways to while away the hours.\u00a0 And saying “hello” in wave or word is not only encouraged, it is expected.\u00a0 I am home.<\/p>\n