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We're on week two of our summer vacation this year.  This second week finds us in granola-land, or Salt Spring Island as it's more commonly known.  The natural beauty accosting us from all angles is striking.  We've spent many hours beachcombing and displaying our ocean life newbiness each time one of us discovers some new creature or other.  We hoot and we holler and we are dazzled with one another's creature spotting proficiency.  There are sea stars almost to the point of the mundane here.  There are enormous crabs which, if it weren't for my ignorance in the art of cooking them, I'd be feasting upon over and over again, so that my belly would be protruding well past the safe zone (Instead, I content myself with the frozen version, safely prepared and ready for my gluttenous seafood heart.). There are otters and moon jelly fish as far as the eye can see.  And eagles.

It'll be great to get home again, though.  I'm an introvert deep inside my extroverted heart and I love to cocoon in my warm, safe nest.  Living out of suitcases, while delicious at first, comes to feel old to me after a  short time.  Living inside someone else's home feels foreign and wrong after the initial excitement of running through all the rooms, checking each nook and cranny for little finds.  One cool side note there, though, is that the owner of this beach house is a Hollywood guy who's won awards for cinematography.  I know this because he's got awards up on the walls here.

Yesterday, we climbed aboard a 40 foot sailboat and cruised all though the Gulf Islands, gaping all the while.   Or at least we gaped while not smack dab in the middle of the moments when I was almost desperately stressed out, trying to spot all four of my kids at the same time, so as to ensure that they were indeed, still on the boat, much to my husband's other-than-enchantment.  Low maintenance I've never professed to be.  It'll be so good to be home, nestled safely within the bleached folds of my clean sheets.
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