by Ann Lee Miller | Jul 1, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat, New Smyrna Beach FL, Stuart FL
I stood in a slice of sun and dust motes coming through a gap in the storage barn while Dad rooted through our pre-boat life. Dad barked at me to help him look for the box labeled “memorabilia.” He hunted the April, 1953 Athletic Journal that contained a four-page... by Ann Lee Miller | May 20, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat, Stuart FL
The sun sank into Southeast Florida in the balmy butt-crack of winter. I’d just turned fourteen and this was my eighth move—a VW van, a sailboat, and six houses. I glanced out the picture window of our cement block cracker box at R.J. and the neighbor kids riding... by Ann Lee Miller | May 13, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Just The Facts Fridays, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
Miami must sound more romantic from Ohio than it does when your skin is actually sizzling in Johnson’s Baby Oil under the South Florida sun. I glanced at my cousin Di who re-upped for a second stint on the Annie Lee this summer. She laid tanning on the fore cabin... by Ann Lee Miller | May 6, 2016 | Blog, Coconut Grove FL, Miami FL- Living Aboard a Sailboat
I lay on the bowsprit, my favorite haunt at sea, willing phosphorescence to appear in the navy blue waters of the Atlantic. Mom’s words rolled around in my head, Do you think I should divorce your dad? Our family could use a little luminescence. Wind danced around me... 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...