What Will This Blog Be When It Grows Up?

It will be a month tomorrow since I dipped my barefeet in the lovely lagoon near my house on stilts. I'm adjusting fairly well. Seven of my 34 years have been lived in the South Pacific. All the rest were here in Cincinnati living on a hill overlooking the Ohio River or a hippy enclave in Northern California during the college years. And I don't know what direction I want this journal to take. Would you find it more interesting to read a thoughtful (even humorous) account about how different mainland life is to island life? Or, would you prefer to read about my Mother's struggle with cancer and whiny, bratty entries about how I'm such a martyr/saint for giving up my love and my "happy-go-lucky" life in paradise?

That last question was of the rhetorical and more of a scolding to myself. I'd give up living on the atoll forever it meant my mother would be well. Jack would move back to the states with me without question. It was my desire that he stay behind while I'm here and keep things going with the diving business and our life in general. I am so lucky to have this time with my Mom. Seeing my family once or twice a year for the past seven years leaves a lot of space for catching up. Folks, if I sound like I'm whining, let me know. Smack me up side the head a few times with the mouse cursor even.