With more than a hint of winter in the Chappy air, I am reminded of the yin and yang of this particular season. Gone are the afternoons swims, but also missing are the horseflies and mosquitoes, Chappy taketh and Chappy giveth away.

The houseflies however (or the “immortals” as Arlene calls them) are impervious to the chill or apparently an atomic winter. They appear as if on the backs of a magician’s rabbit at all times of the year. We’ve had two in our house now for the past week (flies, not magicians or rabbits). I can’t be certain that these two are the same two that introduced themselves during watching of Real Housewives of Atlanta reruns last Thursday (like the annoying parents of twins who dress their twins alike, fly elders refuse to offer distinguishing duds to their progeny), but it doesn’t really matter as they display the same irritating qualities regardless. Despite my imploring of them to “sit and stay awhile”, they visit in 20-second intervals for no more than five-second ticklings. Seriously, I truly wouldn’t begrudge their presence so much if they’d just sit still. Someone get these flies some Adderall (though, with proper counseling, they could probably manage their ADHD without medication).

Whilst on the topic of flies (the name, coincidentally, of my upcoming novel), I’d be remiss if I didn’t share Chappy neighbor Barbara Lott’s delightful fly story here. I get many fan letters and emails due to my town column fame, many (if not most) on the topic of flies, so I can hardly share them all, but Barbara’s distinguished itself in its sheer whimsy. Herewith is an excerpt: “We, at the Lott household, enjoy a diverse group of spiders, and last summer, flies because of the nest a young (and inexperienced in all ways) pair of ospreys were trying to build on top of our chimney which doubled as a garbage can for the remains of their fish dinners. At times, due to their slippery fingers, or talons, whole fish would drop down. We kept one as a souvenir which resides on the wood grate instead of decorative beech logs. The resulting flies put up a valiant fight all summer with legions of recruits arriving daily despite our assaults with the electrified mini tennis racquet. Eventually, because flies are stupid, they are easy to zap as they are irresistibly attracted to windows thinking they are a “window” to freedom. I think I zapped more each day than they could reproduce so just do the math. But we’ll see next spring when we reopen the house. If you hear a loud explosion, it might be the flies breaking the sound barrier in their flight to freedom.”

In other news, I dreamt that Woody Filley and Donna Enos constructed a Chappy town hall on piers that towered some 100 feet above the waters of the outer harbor, and was only accessible by boat and then rope ladder. The ensuing outcry at the obligatory CIA meeting regarding this inconvenience garnered the attention of the national media, and my friend from Colorado called to tell me that he had seen me on CNN. So that was cool.

With Thanksgiving upon us, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the entire Chappy community for conspiring to maintain the unique, quirky, and irrevocably precious quality of our home. It truly takes a village...no matter what “outsiders” think of said village.

Send your Chappy news to ibwsgolf@aol.com.