many happy returns of the day tan!

epic paintings dod!

Going to the beach

At the beach

Your present

The session yesterday was absolutly epic. Easily the best I’ve done yet.

I managed to get going both ways along the beach (the onshore F4 was perfect), and zipped down to Bracklesham and back many times. Sunburned and knackered today, but looking forward the next time!

Han remembered her camera, so put a photo up at some point.

At Bracklesham Bay on Saturday where we arrived at high tide and Liv did a couple of ten second kite surf runs that looked spectacular and Mama and I tried to body board in wild surf.

Then, to East Wittering yesterday, at low tide, where Liv did so many longer and more impressive runs I stopped counting. The water was positively warm for swimming. We even saw the naked jogger, though he appears to have had an injunction slapped on him, because he was wearing shorts.

I managed to leave my camera behind on both days so here’s a photo of someone else kitesurfing.

High tide on East Wittering beach creates perfect shallow lagoons, ideal for Kitesurfing. Mixed in a with a stormy English summer evening.

Any more verses, anyone? Or improvements? (In terms of writing time, I’m with Bob Dylan – see below.)

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He grew whiskers on his chinnigan
The wind came out and blew them in again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He took six biscuits from a tinigan
Put them back and drank some ginigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He went fishing with a pinigan
Caught a whale but threw him in again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Took some rubbish to the binigan
Looked inside and saw his twinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Climbed a tree and barked his shinigan
Took off yards and yards of skinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Played a game but had to winigan
Found out soon this made him sinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
Tried very hard, never to spinigan
Learned at last to smile and grinigan
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He kicked up an awful dinigan
Everyone said he must not sing again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

There was an old man called Michael Finnigan
He grew fat and then grew thin again
When he died he had to begin again
Poor old Michael Finnigan, begin again.

well a concert with that happy soul should cheer mama up! what price le cirque du soleil???