I think I slept through Earl. Literally. Last thing I remember, Kim and I were helping Doris Ward move her wrought iron lawn furniture into her garage (furniture right on the cusp of being too heavy for a hurricane to lift — the worst type to move). Doris lives in the center of Edgartown. Glad to help. Really. Just really wanted a cup of coffee at the coffee shop. But glad to help.

Doris has a small gated yard, one of those uniquely Edgartown pieces of green, tucked neatly between buildings, unbenounced to most except the owner. Doris also has three little dogs. Jack Russells? They are her babies. There is a sign on each gate reminding visitors to close the gates securely lest her dogs escape the security of their home. Her grandson once forgot, as grandsons will, and the dogs escaped. The mini dogs wandered through traffic on Main street for a bit before being returned safely.

Grandson was informed (by Doris) that the loss of Doris’ dogs would be akin to losing grandson (in slightly more graphic terms). I mentioned to Doris that maybe this conversation may have scarred grandson a touch. Doris thought about this for a moment and then said: Some scars are good; they remind us of our resilience. Decent words going into a hurricane.

I hope everyone survived Earl as we did. Our biggest loss was the couple hours time we spent dragging flyable objects indoors. Some people love storms. I once was one of those people until I had things to lose in storms. True, everything material is replaceable, but anyone who has picked up the pieces after nasty weather knows that there’s nothing romantic about ruin.

There are few times on Chappy that resonate more with me than it’s transitional weeks: entering winter, leaving winter, entering summer, and this time — leaving summer. Unlike the entrances which are ripe with expectations, the exits are reflective. What just happened? Usually, it’s October before I fully digest the previous summer. What I like about right now, is the return to green of the dormant grasses, the turning to red of the blueberry leaves, and the start of football season (Chappy is fielding one of it’s strongest teams in years).

My mom has returned to our summer home here on Chappy like a horse back to the barn. That’s a simile — my mom is not a horse. She’s more like a koala bear. Big brother and dad will join her shortly. Dad and mom are no longer together (their marriage some 15 years past), but they get along just fine. And that’s all column readers really need to know.

The ocean has turned down it’s thermostat (must have a cranky dad — “Kids, there is no reason we need the heat on! Put on a sweater!”) I fear that the days of paddle boarding shirtless (easy, ladies), and lingering in the water may be over. The enjoyment of my last swim, though still warm, was mitigated by the presence of the clear little jellyfish. As Kim says, swimming with them is like swimming in tapioca. Or most likely is, as neither of us have ever swum in tapioca (even in college). The feel of them bouncing and skimming off the top of my head was only exceeded in grossness by the handfuls I’d acquire with each crawl stroke. I don’t mind sharks, crabs or any other possible sea dangers — but jellyfish bum me out. There was a lone red one drifting by our dock the other day. I try to appreciate the wonder of their anatomy, but they resemble (to me) an open wound. This particular one appeared to circle back, against the tide, as if to allow me a closer look at it’s gelatinous ickiness. Live and let live, I say. But please stay off of my face. I think that’s a reasonable compromise.

The following was sent to me from Karyn Klouman for inclusion in this column. Karyn lucked out as I received no other e-mail information and I’m feeling less wordy this week. But, as a reminder, my ability to include tidbits such as this is limited. If it were up to me, I’d include everyone’s summer synopsis, but regrettably the Gazette forbids it. Absolutely, uncategorically forbids it. Or at least they should. Anyway, enjoy the Beach Barn update.

The Beach Barn was busy! The Albrights of Voorheesville, New York and their gang summered at the Beach Barn in July as they enjoyed endless beach weather. Karyn Kloumann and Luke Cushanick shared multiple birthdays after arriving via the SeaStreak from New York city to Oak Bluffs. Karyn’s parents joined for a few days in the festivities — there were four non-related birthday parties at the Quarterdeck Restaurant on a mid-July evening! From Simsbury, Conn., the Coen family had the height of the season at the Beach Barn in August as Chappaquidick continued to woo summer guests with her uniqueness.

On a completely unrelated note, I would not be adverse to the arrival, via Fed Ex, of a case of wine. A Voorheesville return address? Just saying.

Finally, a quick hello to all those school-age Gazette readers. Chins up kids!!! Only nine more months - two hundred and seventy-so days of interminable boredom. Enjoy!