Misconstrued

It sure felt like spring on Saturday. Sixty five and sunny. Offshore wind. After we found some space for Fargo, I pulled out the Pig and paddled out. It was small - head, shoulders, knees and toes. But it wasn't bad. Took a few trips to the tip. Trimmed toward the top. Some smooth sailing. I was in the water from ten till two, and again from three until sometime around six. To say I was tired is an understatement. Angel and her offspring arrived. She brought a bunch of wood in the back of her brown van. I sharpened a few sticks so that her daughter could kill pigeons with the bow she'd made out of a branch. We drank beer and built a big fire. In bed around eleven.

The next morning we drank coffee, ate oatmeal and waited for the wind to stop working. Karissa was kind enough to sew something for me - a shirt I wanted to wear. It was a bit bigger, but all kinds of inconsistent. Unfortunately, when the wind turned off so did the waves. We paddled out anyhow. Found a few fun ones, but decided to call it quits after just two or three hours. To be honest, I was pretty frustrated with my performance. Couldn't seem to surf worth a shit. Oh well. I can't wait for next weekend. Looks like spring done finally sprung.


White Fang.

Angel.

Little Lines.

Slip and Slide.

Back Packed.

Country Song.

Seamstress.

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