Bathing in Spilled Milk on a Sunday

I had to dig deep for happiness today.

The waves were cooking this morning. There were sweet, windless 3 footers at Seal Point. But I woke up at 9:30 and had a 10:30 appointment to get to, so a session at Seals had to wait.
By the time I got home the wind was pulling tree trunks out of the ground and the sea looked as tempting as an offal milkshake. The beach front parking lot was packed with frothing kite boarders, all saying, “Jussie, how kief is this wind bru?” I wanted to cut some kite lines and see how much they enjoyed the wind then.

So I decided to go home and watch the Hang Loose Pro in stead. At least I’d have the local guys to cheer for in Round 2. To my dismay (and I’m sure theirs, too) all the South Africans were knocked out by Round 3. I hardly give a flip-flop about rugby, other than the license to drink beer in the daytime it permits, but when the surfing is on I get gnarly. Just saying swear words and smashing my PC doesn’t cut it. My parents dashed downstairs, thinking an aggressive Blue Bull’s fan had hijacked their son’s body. I was promptly told to “cool it and take the dog for a walk”.

A walk with Maximus hardly did the trick. Half way down the beach he started doing handstands and moon walking on all fours, trying to impress a new beefy Alsatian on the block. She just shook her tail and left a buffalo- dung-sized deposit in our path. “Let it go Maxi, she’s way too much dog for you” I said, but he wasn’t interested in my advice.
I spent the next 20 minutes trying to stop Maxi doing a backward summersault off the sand bank and persuading the Alsatian’s owner that my dog wasn’t stolen from Boswell Wilkie.

I needed something to cheer me up.
When I’m down I usually mute the TV and pretend that all the preachers and politicians are WWE Superstars. Ray ‘The Hammer’ McCauley is one of my favorite characters to play. But today that didn’t work. I sadly give a crap about the USA’s election, so I wanted to hear what was going on between Obama and McCain.

So I’ve resigned myself to finish reading Neil Gaiman’s ‘Coraline’ and wait for this wind to die down. I would have been in a far better mood if I’d woken up very early, gone surfing and then done everything else the same. But I was lazy this morning. I chose to let the early birds get some sick three-foot worms without me and now there’s no use in crying over spilled milk.