Nonagenarian is a noun defined as a person who is from 90 to 99 years old. On Oct. 23, Everett Henry Poole joined the club. According to his daughter Katharine, who is in town from Nashville, he shared his wish out loud and it came true. What did he wish for? He was instantly gratified when his wish for cake came true. He was a really good sport who wore a ear-to-ear grin and a sparkly happy birthday tiara. You are loved Mr. Poole.

Octogenarian is another noun that has particular relevance this week. Paul Henry Mayhew was born to Paul and Priscilla Mayhew on Oct. 27, 1940. This past Tuesday he turned 80 declaring him an octogenarian. He began his morning celebrating with the simplicity of a hot cup of coffee on Squid Row surrounded by friends wishing him happiness, laughter, a little good natured banter and many cups of coffee in the upcoming year.

As an aside, Paul and Beth sadly share their cat, Mars, whom they’d had since 2007, has ceased roaming the earth in search of mice and catnip. She will be dearly missed.

Seth Ford, one of our younger Coast Guardsmen who arrived here a while back, had his first unfortunate encounter with a deer. Fortunately, he is fine, but his car is a bit banged up. Deer encounters are never expected and never fun.

Epsilon provided some great days of surfing. The usuals took to the waters off Squibnocket and Painted House and had, as my teen calls it, some epic sessions. The up and coming crowd took to what some call the Kiddie Pool at Squibnocket and rode many waves to shore with parents lining the sand cheering them on. I watched Tegan Fenner, Seth Ford, Jack Nixon, Cali Giglio, Brooks and more take pointers from the seasoned surfers and offer guidance to the littles. It’s quite a sport.

And that’s a wrap at Larsen’s Fish Market. Betsey, Kristine, Scott, Everett, Donald, Patty and the rest of the gang locked the door on Sunday, Oct. 25 and bid adieu to 2020. Okay, so they locked the door and reopened it on Monday to do the end of the season clean and pack up, but the 25th still marked the official close up. The team pulled Allison Flanders in to help with some scrubbing and scouring which was good for me because I got to see her twice in one day.

Uncle Don Smith has fled the shores of Chilmark in search of the warmer weather provided by his Florida home. He managed to sneak out with son Russell before the snow began to fly. It’s always a pleasure having Don’s company. He’s got some great stories to share. Many of them involve fishing and many of them involve Aunt Pat. Sometimes I wonder if that generation had a greater sense of adventure than we do today. Those who grew up before cell phones, computers, television and the like have some hilarious stories of the good old days.

A couple of other good story tellers are my dear friends Carl Leaf, Jane Slater, the aforementioned Everett Poole with a few others sprinkled in for good measure. I started thinking about some of my favorite storytellers and many of them are no longer with us, yet I can still manage a smile and a genuine chuckle when I recall some of the conversations I’ve had over the years. I guess sometimes they weren’t always conversations, but more like interactions. A perfect example is Uncle Bob Flanders would always pull to the far side of the fuel dock at low tide where it wasn’t easy to see him. He’d pound on the dock with a hammer to get our attention. Then there was Eric Cottle who’d always call me sweetie and fill up his gas can once a week because the “lawn doesn’t mow itself.”

Ah, Memory Lane has taken me wandering. Take a stroll yourself sometime.