Sunday, January 24, 2010

Day 112

There comes a point when you just have to say “this isn’t fun anymore!” No, I’m not talking about blogging (although there are days when I wonder why on Earth I declared to write daily. I mean, weekly would have been good, but daily is starting to give me blogaphobic symptoms.) The “this isn’t fun anymore” declaration was made during our beach trip yesterday (yep, we are back at the coast). We decided to visit a different beach than normal (extend our comfort zone and all that) and arrived to pristine and very still waters surrounded by wonderful walking rocks and fine white sand. It looked like Heaven. As I fluffed around laying out towels, setting up my sun lounge, putting our clothes in neat piles under the beach umbrella, Derek took the kids for a walk to examine the rock pools. Once I had our patch of sand all neat and resort-like I stripped to my bikini (yes, I was feeling brave today) and started to apply the sun screen. The wind started to pick up creating a mini sand tornado which made for some natural exfoliation during the sunscreen application process. Nothing to worry about, it was all good. The sand storm increased in severity very quickly though with my hat being ripped off my head and the towels now rolling up like sausages and moving slowly along the beach. I retrieved them and put shoes on them to keep them still. Back to applying sun screen as my hair whipped about my face and someone’s surf board cover flew towards me wrapping around my legs. Ok. Wind is becoming a bit of an issue. Should die down soon. It’s all good. A magazine flew past me from someone else’s patch and as I bent to pick it up I saw something fly into the air out of the corner of my eye. Oh crap. Seems to be our beach umbrella. Oh CRAP!!! There it was spinning skywards with me staring in open mouthed wonder as it then came hurtling back at me. But wait! The wind caught it again and before it hit the ground it started flying up the beach, stabbing at the sand with its javelin like stem with every rotation. It wasn’t rolling nicely up the beach like a wheel, like you’d think an umbrella might, it was cartwheeling canopy over pole, canopy over pole, canopy over pole, while people dived out of its way to avoid getting impaled. I was running after it in all my bikini glory, muffin top jiggling, boobs bouncing, screaming at people to run for cover. A couple of kids were in the firing line and I was mortified as the umbrella seemed to be aiming right for them. They finally heard my yell and scrambled out of the way just as the pole speared into their towel and then continued its journey up into the bushland behind the beach. As I jumped over the sand dunes and the prickly beach vegetation (with all the grace of a jelly fish … have you ever thought about what a jelly fish would look like running on dry land? Well you have now …) I had visions of newspaper headlines “children impaled by beach umbrella” or “runaway umbrella creates kid kebab”. I finally salvaged the bloody thing after it was caught by a tree, and promptly folded it up to trudge back down the beach. I was trying to rummage up what little dignity I had left only to discover no one was interested in me as they were all too busy chasing their own wares. The conditions were positively cyclonic! I got back to our towels and noticed Derek and the kids climbing back across the rocks as they too negotiated the windy conditions. By the time they had returned to our patch I had already packed up declaring “this isn’t fun anymore”. They agreed. It was far too rough, we needed to find a more sheltered cove in which to spend our day. I started to tell Derek the horrific story of my umbrella adventure only to discover they had watched it all from their spot at the rock pools. I’m not sure what I had expected Derek to do but I was mortified that they all just stood and watched my spectacle rather than come running to assist. Derek said he was with me in spirit … and he was gunning for me during my pursuit …. He was very proud of me he said when I finally caught the wayward brolly and even more proud when had the foresight to fold it up (??!??) … but he was most proud as to how incredibly bouncy my boobs were during the pursuit! Right. Well then. While I was saving the world from “kid kebab” headlines he was (as usual) thinking about sex.

Geez Louise! There really is a point where you just have to say “this isn’t fun anymore”.


  1. oh i feel for you...i had that happen a few times but i'd always have a babe & a bunch of little ones with me. i wasn't 40 though...gee now that i think of it....

  2. LOL! Glad you can sympathise. Great to meet you Shelle! I look forward to sharing more life experiences ...


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