The Mudcat Tavern is unusually, absolutely eerily, quiet, for a change. . .

A few covered dishes were neatly arranged in the refrigerator, rendering a splendid meal of a rich and savory stew accompanied by a crisp salad of romaine and blue cheese dressing, washed down by a splendid red wine.

A very fat calico cat creeps in the not-quite-closed door and hops up into the lap of the lone individual who is relaxing in an overstuffed recliner near the fireplace. A shadow in the rafters might be a duck getting a little more comfortable on the broad beam. A thick rope extends from an unusual winch and a harness, resting on one end of the beam, forlorn without the excitement of a tree to suspend and support during the usual tavern excitement.

A warm, saltwater breeze gusts through the southern door.