Out on the deck the other morning, basking in the soft sunshine, filtered, as it was, by the receding marine layer; languidly sipping from a hot cup of espresso; feet, shod as they were, in a pair of comfy Navajo moccasins (gifted to me by our lighthouse keeper), up on the railing (the feet and the moccasins—either without the other would have been silly); my soon-to-be- perambulating body clothed, as it was, in a warm fleece pullover and a pair of old but very memory-inducing Odds Bodkins Lacrosse sweatpants (memory-inducing because the woman who gave them to me spent a few weeks at Chez Doogle, hiking the coast range and sharing many wonderful conversations); and on my head rested, as it would, my trusty Knobby’s Bar web cap.