I used to work as a video journalist for a news station in Orlando, going out and about each day looking for news, chasing ambulances (literally), or doing live shots. We drove marked vehicles, our logo and call letters brandished across every inch of metal, and became inured to frequent intrusions by the viewing public enamored with the thought of being on tv (“Hi mom”) or simply the proximity, however remote, to their favorite news anchors. We worked in a fishbowl, subject to scrutiny from the unwashed masses. It was hard to go unnoticed.

Now I sit in my guest cottage, 50 feet from home construction, old floor joists littering the lawn, stacks of lumber nearby, a two man hydraulic lift at rest, and watch as boats slow down to gawk or make u-turns to inspect the progress. Had we a dock to park your vessels, I would welcome you for a tour. Come in and talk for a spell. Admittedly I am putting myself out there for scrutiny with this bloggy thing but don’t we all welcome talking about ourselves, what we love, or love to do? I am literally building my home, lack of skills notwithstanding, stick by stick and I would love to show it to you.  Today a confluence of kayakers came by, wondering about the boathouse, the new house, the guest house, the moorings, the sign advertising this blog, etc. I found myself  waffling between mild annoyance and an urge to explain and had I not been spotted, which necessitated a greeting (I try to be polite), I would have stayed quiet. But because of that simple connection though I was eager to chat, explain the situation, show off my dogs, and spend a few minutes with inquisitive folk.