When my daughter Lisa was graduating from UC Santa Cruz, she wanted Davy and me to come early to attend a party that was to start at collegiate hour of 11 p.m. That seems like a no-brainer, right? Except we lived five hundred miles away, and we’d be driving through LA’s Friday-night rush-hour traffic. Obviously we needed to
leave our house no later than 2 p.m. to make it on time.
    A caveat here: Davy does not have the same, intense sense of time that I’ve acquired from 33 years of teaching school and being controlled by school bells. So a 2 p.m. departure for him could mean a 3 p.m. departure, or later. I knew this about him, and I fumed 

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   I love this photograph because it reminds me of the terror that ate away at me the night before.
    You see, I’m really uncomfortable on and in ocean water, despite the fact that my husband Davy (wearing the cap) and I cruise our boat L’Esprit all over the Pacific Northwest.
    The night before this picture was taken, we were in B.C.’s Shoal Bay, along with our friends Darryl and Joan. Darryl had promised us that he wouldn’t just take us out fishing in his Boston Whaler, but he’d take us out to catch fish. Boy, I couldn’t wait, because I