Yesterday I was a bad lad and snuck down as it was the first surf opportunity in a couple of weeks... and I was quietish workwise. It turned out to be a good move, high tide glassy Bells/Rincon, pretty uncrowded, sort of sloppy but a playful four feet, and a few long ones, right to the beach. It does a good impression of a point break, the old Bells, when it does this.
Today, I had the car packed, ready to do another runner to what I'd been tipped off to be perfect brisk offshore, classic and a foot bigger, only to have the youngest say why not hang together for a bit.
Naturally I shined the surf as even an hour or two with the Hellboy is time well spent.
Quiet is good.
The thing is, at around fifteen, they suddenly decide parents are not to be hung around with, know nothing or are there only to harass, so good time is rare time. I try to be a good Dad, but they make it hard when you feel like all you do is berate them about study and homework, and all the other things that both make their young lives and put them at risk.
Of course, we then look back at our own years, go oops!... try to maintain dignity and not feel like a total hypocrite.
All you out there kid-less but about to not be... hold on to your hats.
Pic, sloppy, glassy fun at you know where.