Where do you leave your heart?
The song says that someone left their heart in San Francisco. Some would think my heart is at the brocante. Sometimes I wonder if that could be true? But this much I know, a large part of my heart is in Westport, California.
The rugged coast.
Simplicity.
The sound of the Pacific while falling to sleep.
Memories of camping with my family and Uncle Jule, Aunt Frannie, my cousins… Bern, Alma, Bev, Dan, Julie, Gene.
Have you ever thought if you could go back to one or two memories which ones you might go back too?
I beleive I would go back to Westport on a foggy summer day 1972… My cousins and I swimming in the roaring tides, while my dad and Uncle Jule fished with nets, my mom and her sisters sleeping on the beach with an alarm clocking ready to ring and take them back to camp to cook for the thirty three cousins…
I am, in someway, going back to those memories today.
Westport bound with my cousin Alma and her husband.
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