The St. Agnes Journal

A rowing seat on the Shah is a privilege and rite of passage.

Later the phrase, “Man on the range—hold your fire!” popped into my head but I had called out the friendly “Hello!” one uses to track down vanished shop clerks.

Van sought: light baggage and freight hauling duty for two, young guesthouse owners. Short distances. Busy summers but free time in the off season.

Would-be lessees and grouse trappers, take heed!

This heaving, churning, amazing sea threw a living room-full of water up the rocks at a time.

Lighthouses scanning from every distant corner, gave the impression of a giant disco from horizon to horizon.

And my growing, expanding Universe theory

Tank eel tales and four-legged sharks

Four worms later, all of them still wriggling on the counter, and he too threw in the towel.