Thanks Giving Wherever You Are

Thanksgiving has not been a traditional family affair for Bill and me during most of our married life. On our very first Thanksgiving together he proposed to me in a seafood restaurant, having hidden the ring in a basket of rolls. We had just moved to Pittsburgh and our families lived in Chicago and Phoenix. Then over the next three decades we often celebrated the day with friends, at their homes or at ours. Our second Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh saw a nice gathering of my Mellon Bank co-workers at our first home; I think there were eight at that table.

One year we flew to Phoenix to celebrate the Thanksgiving Day 80th birthdays of my father-in-law and his twin sister; the flight was delayed so it was close to 10 p.m. before we could join Bill’s family at a restaurant in Scottsdale. Another very sad year we were in Chicago having held vigil at my father’s hospital bedside for four days when we got the 4 a.m. call on Thanksgiving morning that he died. Coincidentally, my paternal grandfather had also died that time of year; he had a fatal heart attack the day after Thanksgiving.

Some years when it was just the two of us Bill prepared the turkey and dressing; when it was my responsibility I bought turkey dinners from Boston Market! There were also many years when Bill was flying for US Airways. Sometimes I was able to get a free seat and spend it with him in another city; when I couldn’t manage to do that, I enjoyed Thanksgiving with our good friends the Kellys.

This year, our first Thanksgiving in our new hometown, we began it rather more traditionally by attending a Thanksgiving Day worship service at one of the two Lutheran churches we’ve visited. Very few churches in the Pittsburgh area would have the service on Thursday morning, opting to hold it the evening before, so this was a nice change. Later we took a 4+ mile roundtrip walk to a small community’s Main Street and peered into all the storefront windows. As Bill noted to another couple doing the same, “This is the best way to shop!” Later, we drove into south Jacksonville for a traditional turkey dinner at The Chart House, at a table with a river view.

 
So, even though Madison Avenue tries very hard to have you believe that it’s just not Thanksgiving unless you have braved weather and incredible flight delays to get home halfway across the country, don’t believe it! Thanksgiving is what’s in your heart and what comes out of your lips, whether you’re alone or crowded around the family table. Be thankful in all circumstance and above all, be a blessing to others.

So Much for the Scenic Route

After nearly three weeks of hard work getting Pure Grace back into shape, Bill announced this morning that we were going to take the day off and explore our nation’s oldest city, St. Augustine. Although the 39-degree temperature this morning may have had something to do with his desire to postpone tackling another bit of re-assembly work, I think he was also eager to see the campus of the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind.

We took Route A1A south from Jacksonville, with the Intercoastal Waterway on our right and the Atlantic Ocean on our left. However, except for one or two brief glimpses of the ocean, both views east and west were well blocked by barriers of local scrubby trees and bushes or house after house after house. It was only a 45-minute ride to St. Augustine and the day turned out to be sunny with a little breeze. We walked through historic Old Town, checking out the Old Colonial Day exhibits, the oldest wooden schoolhouse in America, and St. Photios, a Greek Orthodox national shrine dedicated to the first colony of Greek people who came to America in 1768.

A tanner's shop and home in the Old Colonial exhibit.

The altar at St. Photios, the Greek Orthodox shrine.



We also walked along the oldest street in the country, Aviles Street, narrow, cobble-stoned and lined with old buildings and homes. Since Bill isn't much of a tourist-type shopper we left those for another time when friends and family visit next spring.

After lunch at an Irish pub (well, I did have a blackened mahi mahi sandwich) we toured Castillo de San Marcos, the oldest masonry fort in the U.S. constructed in 1672, where we watched a cannon firing out over Matanzas Bay before heading home.

It was a good day to be away from the marina as we discovered a Yamaha boat engine “open house” was taking place on our dock when we got back. And yes, Bill couldn't resist working up on the fly bridge some more, motivated no doubt by the lack of antenna and resulting erratic cable television feeds.

Home Sweet Berth

Pure Grace arrived in Jacksonville on Friday morning, October 28th. This photo shows her in the sling getting a bath after coming off the truck. Next she was put up on jackstands in the boatyard and we spent the weekend sanding the hull and putting on two coats of a special brackish water barrier paint. I was mostly Bill's go-fer and I did a lot of running around Jacksonville, learning where the closest Home Depot, West Marine and Napa Auto stores are...not to mention Chick-Fil-A for lunches!

Bill was totally blue from head to toe on Saturday from the sanding so on Sunday I plopped a plastic shower cap on his head and he tried to be careful with the paint roller. Even so, we had to use some nasty paint remover on his head and face to keep him from looking like a member of the Blue Men cast.

This was the view from the starboard side in our temporary slip on Wednesday night. The winds were so strong that day neither Bill nor our dockmaster wanted to attempt bringing Pure Grace into her own berth. We listened to the fenders rubbing up against the boat most of the night, but that sure beat the racket we listened to every night from our extended-stay hotel. I was so glad we could get out of there a night early!

The next morning I slipped outside in my bathrobe with camera in hand to capture the first of beautiful sunrises here. The river was much calmer; there was actually some guy in a small boat cruising at 7 a.m. Around 9 o'clock we moved Pure Grace into slip B49. The angle of our slip is such that anyone coming down the dock gets a wonderful view right into the pilot house, where I have set up my office.

This is my view from the pilot house down the dock looking toward the security gate. The slips on either side are empty right now so we're not cheek-to-cheek with other boaters. That building in the background is a 16-unit condo, minimum price well over $1 million. It was originally part of the marina but the 2007-2008 recession put a halt to buyers so the marina was sold off and is doing well on its own. I can't wait to use the pool!

Most of the boats here are sailboats; this is the view from our aft end. So pretty! And below is the city of Jacksonville in the distance, just 6 miles or so away.

This weekend the Blue Angels are putting on an air show so we've watched them practice high-speed fly-bys right overhead. Our marina is hosting a three-day party so we have guest boaters here for the weekend. So nice of them to throw a welcome party for us, ha ha! I'm excited to meet the permanent residents at the pizza party tonight.