I sat on a salt worn, splinter ridden, slate grey deck outside a restaurant in Newport Bay, Oregon. I ate a Cobb salad and couldn’t resist sharing with the sea lions scattered on the rocky beach below me. Tomato and bit of egg for me, lettuce for you. Cucumber drenched in ranch dressing for me….more lettuce for you. Between their barking and the squall of seagulls, the waves breaking onshore were nearly drowned out. Perfect background noise for this dismal June day. Dismal only because it was June and June is supposed to be bright and just becoming uncomfortably hot. Not rainy and 50 degrees. But the Pacific Northwest isn’t known for enchanting weather. Majestic trees and rocky shorelines, yes. And, of course, The Goonies. I was supposed to be setting foot in Ireland right about now, but instead I was watching seals on a buoy a few hundred yards out. It wasn’t so bad. The temperature was probably about the same. Less bars and yuppier people, but that was okay too. I wasn’t in much of a mood for socializing. I wondered about the seals on the buoy. Did they swim out there, away from their counterparts for a bit of a break? Did they aim to stake out a claim on their own private real estate only to be accosted by “friends” who wanted company? I’m glad I was alone on my deck in…