Flipper Feet

I went to the pool yesterday, and as I strolled along the pool deck contemplating the bizarre combination of tan lines I currently sport, an older gentleman walked up to me. Nice guy with a big smile.

"Size ten?"

I look at him confused.

"Your feet," he says.

And then, he looks at me more closely, and realizes that I'm not who he thought I was. He explains: There's a woman who swims here, and she kicks really fast. She said it was because she has size ten feet.

He thought I was the woman with the size ten feet who kicks really fast.

Well, I'm not The Woman. But I do have size ten feet. And sometimes, I kick pretty fast.

Silly swimmers.


Four Whole Days

Of Surf.
Thursday, it was my birthday. And there was surf.
Friday, it wasn't my birthday anymore. But there was still surf.
Saturday, it definitely wasn't my birthday anymore. But there was surf.
Sunday, yes, you guessed it, there was surf.
Four whole days.

It looked something like this:

I had a camera in my bag. You know, the bag that has all the stuff that goes to the beach in it: Bikinis (several, because it's so hard to decide), ear plugs, Sun Screen (Much), a balance bar or three, a banana, gloves, orange gu (friends don't let friends surf hungry), fuzzy-wuzzy warm rash guard for extra-cold days, surf wax, flip-flops, sand, and all the other assorted odds and ends that end up living there.

But about the camera. I put the camera in the bag, so that I could take a picture of two. Every day, I walked down to the beach to check the surf, and every day I forgot to bring the camera. Maybe I'll take a couple pictures after I surf. But every day, someone patiently waited for our parking spot. And I felt bad saying, well no, you can't have the spot, because I want to take a picture. That, and I was far too lazy to walk back down the trail from the parking lot to the beach.

So I have no pictures. The one up there? It's from last year. Recycling is good.

Since the weather bordered on epic, lots of people showed up to play. Some of them clearly had not surfed in months. How else to explain the girls in cutey cut-off spring suits when the water hovered around the 58 degree mark? I especially like the bikini and rash guard look. Girls, let me remind you once again: Board shorts are good. Also, bend at the knees, not at the waist. And do please remember not to run over me with your ten foot long board, mmkay? You're really not cute when you do that. Promise.

Because it was our birthday - Yes, John and I have the same birthday - we stopped at the bakery on the way home and ate cupcakes. So heart me some post-surf cupcake.

There was a brush fire, too. Good thing we had more cupcakes for dinner. Otherwise, it would have been very disappointing, what with the power outage and all. But mix-n-match pasta and cupcakes by candle light is pretty good times.

But mostly, there was surf. And it was good.

The End.


Election Night Drama

So, I'm not usually much for politics. But I dig me some election night Drama.

I'm trying to get some writing done, but I can't stop flipping among the bazillion tabs I have open on election coverage. So much fun this internet thingy.

I especially like the maps, like the one over at NY Times.

Looks like the networks have all called Vermont to Obama and Kentucky to McCain.

Let's see what happens next...