Hawaii. Paradise. Right? Oddly enough, life still happens when in paradise. The first six weeks were a series of butt kickings for me personally, job, health, finances. I was ready to tuck tail and head for California. But, the price one pays for being a gypsy is that tucking your tail and returning home isn't so easy when there really isn't a home to go to. Snort. Where were we going to live if we threw in the towel, the storage unit? So, it became necessary to have an attitude adjustment, a career adjustment, a further downward spiral of our income adjustment, and a major crossing of fingers that my innards behave until my insurance kicks in. It took some doing, but adjustments were made, for the most part, and the innards, touch wood, are behaving.
And here we are, three weeks from our departure, and Hawaii has gotten under our skin. Not our little town, no, not Pahala, though Punaluu Beach has become our beach. Pahala is wayyyy too far off the beaten path even for us, but we are putting out feelers to come back, put down some roots, ship our car, ship our stuff (I have several gnomes in boxes clamoring for release), and make this our headquarters. It's very peaceful over here. Not to mention warm, even when it's not sunny. The swimming is amazing, the sites are awesome, the people are lovely (though there is still that niggling discomfort with cockfights and pit bulls), and the birdsong that greets us each day so good for the soul.
Who knows what the future will really hold, but for now it's fun to dream about calling this place home.