From the Editor

End-of-season quarterly accounting.

Number of house guests: one Vineyard friend, since displaced; one college roommate with spouse and two kids in tow; two parents, one sister, one brother in law, two nieces; one more college roommate with spouse and kid; one childhood best friend; one aunt; one mother in law with dog.

Number of trips to the beach: forty-seven.

Number of obligatory Menemsha sunset viewings: four.

Number of jumps off the Jaws bridge: too many for my liking.

Number of fish caught: not nearly enough – clearly the fish’s fault.

Number of bags, toys, chairs, and coolers dragged to the beach: four per trip, unless kids in tow, in which case plus-thirty-seven per child.

Number of trips to the grocery store to keep fridge stocked and guests happy: sixty-three.

Number of trips to the liquor store to keep hosts happy: redacted.

Number of dollars spent on fish caught by bona fide professionals: $819.

Number of dollars spent on ice cream cones: $524 (worth every penny).

Number of cars backed up at the Triangle while en route to grocery store or liquor store or in pursuit of fish and ice cream: forty-two.

Number of times better angels prevailed to prevent cursing, finger wagging, general tsk-tsking, or head-shaking at mopeds: fifty-one.

Number of times better angels did not prevail: redacted.

Number of walks in the woods necessary to decompress after trips through the Triangle and encounters with mopeds: twenty-six.

Number of tick checks from said walks: two thousand.

Number of ticks found: four, one attached and engorged (little bugger).

Number of loads of laundry required to clean up after and prepare for new house guests: one million, nine hundred thousand and twenty-three.

Number of times car was vacuumed since guests arrived: zero, due to futility and too much time spent doing laundry.

Number of grains of sand currently occupying the car: one million, nine hundred thousand and twenty-four, give or take a few hundred thousand.

Number of naps needed to recover from a season of splendor: one million, nine hundred thousand and twenty-five, or one interrupted week of recuperation, or five quiet weekends in a row; official tally yet to be determined.

Number of sighs of relief September has arrived: ongoing.

Number of beautiful September days ideally spent fishing: all of them.

Number of successful September fishing days: almost certainly none.

Number of days to enjoy secret summer/glorious fall, beach plums, quiet roads, empty beaches, and other people’s Derby bounties, or, barring that, the latest Net Result catch: sixty-one, weather permitting.

Take time to enjoy each and every last one.