Month: June 2016

Maui I – Wave Blocked

It was our 6th day in Maui January 2016 and the waves were 2 to 3 foot mush – fussy weak phantoms. When we first arrived in Kihei the sets at The Cove were 4 to 5 feet – just enough to be slightly scary but manageable with my beginner abilities.  I went out every morning until my surf instructor prescribed a two day rest.  At my fitness level if I surfed every day I would be dead by the end of the week.  If the sharks did not eat me I would dash against the rocks out of sheer exhaustion.

Now I was back.  I wanted to make most every moment of surfing in a 10 day stretch where utility bills and needing a sitter so I could paddle out did not exist.  Despite the bad surf report and the wind, I put down my biography of pro surfer Kelly Slater, dropped my man and kid on the sand, took my rented foam surfboard and walked toward the ramp.

On a typical day this beach would be crawling with breezy low key surf instructors trailed by exuberant tourists desperate to be cool or widely grinning as their stand up paddle boards wacked them in the head.  Today the only person I saw was a man sitting on a bench attaching a bulky zoom lens to his camera.

Crap.  That means someone who knows what they are doing is here.

S**t in My Living Room – It was a Bad Week.

“I still love you!” I yell out of the window of my silver mini SUV.  My four year old daughter turns and looks at me with the brightest smile I have seen all morning.  With a hop in her step she takes her teacher’s hand and enters the door of her preschool.

It was a bad morning.

We went through whining, refusing to get dressed, more whining, crying and telling me she was standing up when she was not–the first time I have heard her knowingly lie.  I drew a firm line and stuck to it until I realized that unless I increased the rate of movement there was no possible way to get her to school and get to my workout class.  I could not live without my workout class.  I lost it and started yelling.

It was a bad week.

Have you ever had shit in your living room? Not the proverbial kind that “happens,” but the kind that erupts from underground pipes covering your bathroom, pantry and sky blue wool living room rug with scented clumps in varying shades of coffee, tan and russet floating in a delicious chartreuse sauce of God knows what.

%d bloggers like this: