Went to the beach down the coast yesterday for the first time in an extremely long time. Took the mini kite surfing kite and the dogs. We parked ourselves about halfway down the Spit where there is generally nobody, and let the dogs run free. (Usually if we let them go free down the end where everyone else’s dogs are, they try to kill all the other dogs).
I love that kite. It is the same sort of kite you use for kite surfing (which I have yet to try!), but smaller. Used for training/practice. We’re hoping to get really good with it, so when we can finally afford to go kite surfing, we won’t be starting from zero. It just takes off, flies really high; when there is a fair bit of wind it can actually tug you along the ground. The pull is that strong. And you can make it do loop de loops and suchlike. I flew it for a while but the wind was pretty bad: sometimes zero, sometimes a sudden gust. I backed farther and farther into the ocean — the tide was coming up, and the beach was getting narrower and narrower. The waves were coming up around my waist (and sometimes higher!), white foam everywhere. I hadn’t planned well, was wearing pants and a shirt. Yet, the water was warm. The depths of winter here, and yet the water is still warmer than the Atlantic in summer — by far.
Afterwards I hung my pants over a tree and sat in my underwear, drying off. That’s another thing I love about Australia. No one cares if you are sitting around at the beach in your underwear.
It began to dawn on me that the barren scrub behind us, between the beach and the road, was a hotbed of male love activity. Zaubi went off to get us some fish while I waited for my pants to dry, and I began to notice an endless stream of very buff men with towels, sneaking somewhat inconspicuously along the pathway atop the dunes where I was sitting. Or strutting along the beach below, alertly watching the pathway, then suddenly disappearing and then just their heads reappearing, halfway hidden in the tall grass. At one point one of them stop atop one of the dunes, displaying his arousal like a flag, as it were, to the general populace. For about 10 minutes. Yuk!
Anyway. To change the subject, QLD winters are, I think, going to make me fat. Because we can’t heat the house, and it is frigidly cold in the evening/night/morning, the only way I can make it reasonably warm is by cooking. More specifically, baking. So I’ve been doing a lot of baking recently. Baking is tasty and all, but not good for you.
Well, my fingernails are turning blue. Time for some baking!
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