Surfing. Good word, brings up images of fit young men, great big waves and improbably shaped beach babes. Please note, at no time do you spot any reference to me and mine in this list.
Strains of 'Hawaii Five O' ring in your ears, wild white horses gallop to shore, Guinness and aftershave adverts spring to mind.
You are still not associating me with this are you? Nope, neither am I….
Or such was the case until yesterday.
Idgy has been niggling at me for months saying that since we are going to France for a few weeks this summer could she pulleaeeese have a body board so we can leap about like mad things on the Atlantic beach.
She has been so impressed at the kids she saw there last year. Kids throwing themselves at waves, falling off their boards, laughing and having fun.
Personally I have always found the bigger boy surfers more fun to watch. The sun tan, six pack, fab legs etc. Need I go on?
However in all these surf infused imaginings I have never actually put myself in the picture. Oh no, I am way too old and flabby to be a beach bunny. My days of the black bikini, or God forbid the Pammy red cozzy are long gone. Oh no, I see myself draped over a tastefully coloured beach towel wearing something fetching that keeps all of me in the right place (no, not a burka), chatting to friends and with maybe a little drinkee in hand. At no point in this scenario am I lunging about in the water looking like a drowned rat and clutching a small piece of hardened foam masquerading as a mini surf board.
Why then did I become a complete surf sheep yesterday, and when a crowd of people were snapping up these (admittedly rather cool) body boards at less than a quarter of their normal price, I found myself falling easily into coconversation with them and reaching for 2 (yes you read right, 2!) body boards.
Idgy was thrilled when I took them home. There she was humming 'Hawaii Five O' and adopting the position with ease. Even the ferret was getting in on the act and enjoying a slide on the board and a little tour of the livingroom.
There is no escape now, no hope for me carrying on my sloth like beach habits. No, no, this year the New Me will be lunging for the waves and embracing the surf!
Betcha don't believe me!
Karon x
Of course we will need pictures, lots of pictures. I am proud of you, you are a brave soul.
WOW!
What is the French for “look out…here comes the Scots surfer!!”?
We need photos…perhaps you may inspire us all to step out of our comfort zones. Perhaps we could take part in a “step out of the comfort zone” challenge?
Jane
Usually after someone declares something like this it’s followed by a newscaster saying, “Film at Eleven.” At Eleven the poor sap is shown being carted off to a waiting ambulance with a big smile on his face, of course, several teeth were knocked out, along with what was left of his brain, but he’s smiling none the less….and Karon, my friend, THIS IS WHAT’S IN YOUR FUTURE UNLESS YOU SNAP OUT OF IT REAL QUICK!!! I think you need to position yourself on your lovely colored beach towel, drink in hand, straw and mini-umbrella in drink optional, with sun-glasess on and you wearing some slinky number WITH THE BODY BOARD parked in the sand, standing straight up, right next to you…to all who pass by your message will be sent, loud and clear…”Body boarder taking a breather, no need to stare.” Remember, you can fool most of the people most of the time! xo, Nan
Good for you! We will need to see lots of photos. Your vacation sounds fun!
Patti xxoo