I finally decided to introduce myself.

I never thought that an introduction to steemit was either wanted or necessary. I think I got so used to the impersonal and mass dynamic that the internet has become that I never thought of myself as, well, myself anymore online.
But I read a fine post today and it made a lot of sense.
,https://steemit.com/steem-help/@sykochica/answering-common-questions-why-am-i-not-getting-votes-what-can-i-do-about-it
A lot of the posts I've read on steemit so far have been from people just as new and confused as I myself am. I realised I was not alone and not a faceless number on the tinterwebz of things.

So here we are and this is I.
I spent most of my adult youth as a British soldier until I got injured and left to the misery of civvy street back in Britain.
I eventually walked out on my failed marriage and ended up in the mountains of West Virginia with my best friend and soul mate Jan.
I convinced her, we would have more fun living on a little boat and sailing for tropical islands. She fell for it hook line and sinker, so we acquired an old, beat up Westerly Centaur (Hence my name) called Mystic, and began our life as pirates. I had posted on here about our trip on Mystic but I lost all the passwords for that account. It was entertaining though if you ever find it.
We lived on Mystic for two and a bit years working our way south down the east coast of the states until the bad news arrived.
My mother was dying and I was return home to care for her.
This sadly ended with my mother dying and the boat journey finished. I had no way to get back to the States (Long story and immigration there sucks).
Jan joined me briefly in England and with nowhere to live, we ended up in a caravan in the Derbyshire dales next to a most excellent pub.

And now? Now we took the advice of a strange woman we met in that pub. She said "Bugger the prices 'ere old loves. you wants to get yerselves to Portugal. Always sunny there and the beer is a lot bloody cheaper."
My ears twitched and by the end of the evening we were poring over ways and means to make a trip to sunny Portugal.
Worked out cheaper to rent this little apartment than to park our caravan and the crazy, drunken woman was right. Life is a lot less of a race and more of a leisurely stroll here. It has to be. The Portuguese rush for nobody.
We live just outside a tiny fishing village on the Algarve.
If you are still awake, thank you for reading this far. Do feel free to leave a comment. Or not. Now I know, it matters not.