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Kneer sighted

Fark... unlike a hangover that you can sorta shake loose with a few litres of water and a good lie-in post-war, this damn knee isstill giving me grief after two or so weeks. Swollen like a big bag of jellybeans. Still. Fecker.

Frustration kicks reflexive. I'm a grumpy fecker stomping about with a twisted smile, wild eyed and frothing manic... Several called epic sessions have been missed including another blinder this morning with Croyde shipping in steaming lines of head-and-a-half high, slurping green cylinders.

If I hear one more precious local or blown hot-rat foam at me with another, 'Dude, you missed it, where were ya?'...


Photo from Magic Seaweed

Luckily I've managed to whore myself out behind the counter in the the Cream Shop (the front for SCB) serving pasties, coffees and ice-cream. Looking forward to getting back in the water for the lessons alone! It's a simple joy to be with someone and help them stand on a surfboard and ride a wave for their first time...

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