I met Hope a million years ago at a Christmas party at her brother’s, with whom I was friends back in my twenties. I knew she was an architect, and that alone intimidated me enough. She was also outgoing and smart, kind and confident, and an alumnus of Miss Porter’s. Basically, everything this girl from the South Shore of Long Island wished she had been. (Hey, at least I own it…) Fast forward some 20-odd years later, I  noticed a woman and her mom looking adoringly at Remy as we sat waiting for our coffee one morning at the Southfield Store up in the Berks. I brought Remy over to say hi to these dog lovers and the daughter asked, “Are you Jane Larkworthy?” It was Hope, and her mom, Bunny, whom I also had known way back when. (who forgets someone named Bunny???). Wouldn’t you know it, Hope’s house is in the town just south of ours. Not only that, she and her husband John are avid cyclists and, as often happens up …