by Ann Lee Miller | Apr 29, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
I shoved my dollar and twenty-five cents deeper into my pocket and piled out of the backseat, R.J. right behind me. I had to work to keep my face from smiling. It didn’t pay to smile around Dad. He’d find a way to squash happy like a mosquito. Dad slammed the... 
by Ann Lee Miller | Apr 22, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
Station wagons puttered past me, hauling my classmates from St. Hugh’s. I scuffed my saddle shoes along the sandy berm of Charles Street, the only kid walking home from school. Pines rustled and puddled shade on the pavement. I had never outrun the solitary feel of... 
by Ann Lee Miller | Apr 15, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays
A rubber band nicked my arm between my elbow and my St. Hugh’s uniform sleeve and fell to the floor beside my desk. I turned around and shot a glare at Harry Ferguson, but he and the rest of the class stared, slack-jawed over my shoulder. I twisted forward in time to... 
by Ann Lee Miller | Apr 8, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
I stood on the aft deck, rising and falling with the bounce of the boat, letting the cool night air slough off sleep. Pier 1 glowed like a Martian ship was about to land, but only stars spattered the sky. Our neighbors buzzed along the pier armed with a bevy of bare... 
by Ann Lee Miller | Apr 1, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
I stood on the bowsprit as we sailed Biscayne Bay. The wind swept the swelter of the sun from my skin. A bucket of Noon rain had dumped and now steamed up from the decks of the Annie Lee, taking my troubles—real and imagined—with it. “Annie!” Dad hollered from the... 
by Ann Lee Miller | Mar 25, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
Saturday dawned sunny and sticky like every other day in Miami, but a cloud of misery sat on my head like an anti-halo as I anticipated a weekend scraping barnacles off the Annie Lee’s hull. R.J. perched in the cockpit. At four years old, even today’s fifty-yard...
