The professor had it pretty good. A beautiful tropical island. Sandy beaches and palm trees. A couple of drinking buddies to hang out with. Even two girls, always making coconut cream pies for everyone.
At about 8 years old I thought that looked like a goal worth setting my sights on. Unfortunately, I had to do a little time.
The family imposed requirements of school, then university, had to be completed. While it was never really said, it was definitely implied, that if I didn't conform I would not get invited to family gatherings in the future. The Requirements met, it was time to head as far south as that grey 77' Pontiac Lemans would roll. I had heard that at the end of the road was an amazing little is
It was there that I really started to learn. I sailed, I dove, I made cocktails and dreams. I read Hemingway and listened to Buffett. I took it all in, till it became a permanently imbedded ideology. I spent hours riding my scooter around the island, studying the architecture. Grand homes and small conch cottages all sharing that same vibe emanating from them. By the age of 30, I'd had my fill of boats and bars. I had also done well on my first house deal and it was time to start a new chapter.
Now when you live down there, the thought of living anywhere above Saint Augustine brings on horrific visions of getting frost bite. This makes leaving very difficult. Being originally from New England, I figured I could handle living on the latitudinal edge. I failed forward in Orlando, stayed briefly in the "almost perfect" Appalchacola, and spent three excruciatingly long months confused in California. The universe eventually guided me to Mount Dora. To say the least, it was a little different than my previous surroundings. However, similar to my old island, this place also had that feeling of someplace special. For the next dozen years I renovated historic cottages in town. Picket fences and porches adding a little island style into my projects. Then I saw her. She was big, old, and very broken. The porches had been enclosed and she been split into two apartments. No sooner than 20 years ago, she been sprayed in a shade of putrid salmon. She had been rode hard, put away wet, and I was in love.
There had been some pretty offensive changes done to the interior and exterior. That, combined with the unquantifiable number of people to pass through her doors over the past 100 years, she was more than qualified for a complete DNA removal. We emptied her out, lifted her up and gave her all new everything.
Giving this great old house a new chapter in it's life has coincided with a personal evolution as well. I have learned that it really doesn't matter where you live, as much as how you are living. Having a feeling of accomplishment, the support of your community, and pride in what you are producing can absolutely provide that happy, simple life so many desire. So for now, North Key is my own inner peace of paradise. My island home patiently waiting for the ocean to catch up.
