I went back home a week after the 4th, because my emigré brother was coming in from Sweden on the 8th, apparently to celebrate the birthday of Gustavus Adolphus or the coronation of Count Bernadotte or somesuch.
His daughters were born in the USA, and they were happy to be back; apparently there are some things you can't do the same way in Sweden...
Anyway, all the kids in our family are flipping harp seals, absolutely fearless in the water...even though a big-ass storm had passed through the day before and we were looking at 6-8 foot waves with some 10-footers mixed in for surprise...
Trust me, he's in there somewhere...
And what joy, the family dragged me back into the water, to freshen up those mad body-surfing skills that I last honed back in ...1968...
But after I cracked the rust off I got in a few good runs, in spite of all the ocean could do to beat the crap out of me...
...then I tried to get up the next morning and found out that yes, the ocean had in fact beaten the crap out of me. Water is heavy when it gangs up on you.
3 comments:
The rust was cleverly disguised under the pasty white exterior. Obviously, the pwd was shelved for the time being, in favor of a ftd (farmer's tan). Did I ever mention that I think a tractor is sexy.
Deborah Leigh
I noticed that you gave this post the following label:
Labels: How I Spent My Summer Vacation... Prostrate
Ah, the spelling on that last work, when it comes to you, should 'Prostate'.
That was the one thing I DIDN'T have to have massaged after the Atlantic was done with me...
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