Friday, 23 November 2012

High Tide05:48 (2.40m)
Low Tide12:25 (0.70m)
High Tide19:20 (2.30m)

Sea temperature: not taken
Sea conditions: EVEN WILDER
Weather: windy but dropped from the 40 mph of last night.
Joined by: The Poet
Topics of conversation:
The water - it was really rough this morning and as I got to the beach there was a full wooden pallet in the shallows, which I dragged out of the water. When the boys arrived I explained that I didn't want it going back into the water as it could do us a fair bit of damage, floating about. The Poet responded that yes, that would be unpalatable...there was an attempt to claim that he was standing in for DK in his absence - DK, the King of Puns that is

Pallets make great kindling though so I carried it home, which was my only exercise as The Pirate and I didn't go in this morning, having watched The Poet being bowled over. The rest of the country has been much worse with floods as well as gales and by this afternoon there was little sign of any wind here at all. I've just been for a really long walk and the water was so inviting, calm once more so there's hope for a real swim for the first time this week - just in time for DK's return. I'm assuming he won't have had the same problem with his morning dip as the ponds don't get rough, but maybe health and Safety have a hold there and they ban swimming if the trees are blowing about.  
On my walk I took the tow path along the river, which was like a mill pond, except for a constant ripple, moving more or less parallel with me all the way along as a seal kept pace with me. I've heard that they are curious about dogs and I've had them follow them on the beach before but this one just seemed to be using me as a pacer, keeping just a couple of meters behind all the way up river towards the bridge, where we met Legs, No I Son and Mabel.

Legs and No.1 Son were both exhausted and on a high following the massive success of their Thanksgiving bash, which they'd hosted at the local pub last night. Both The Pirate and The Poet had enjoyed the evening and said the food was amazing, as well as the atmosphere. The Pirate's No. 2 Son had spent the evening sampling American cocktails and this led to a discussion and about hangovers and alcohol induced sickness, which I am sure wasn't the reason for Sara's no show this morning... 
The Pirate is one of those lucky people who is seldom sick in the stomach, unlike me. The concept of gut feelings is something I understand only too well and I told the others about a friend who is sick when she is deeply upset. When she was at school she fell in love with a much, much older man; the father of her best friend's boyfriend. It was not a physical relationship, simply an overpowering adoration of a cultured, creative soul. They would go for drives around the Gloucestershire countryside and he played the guitar to her whilst her friend and his son cuddled on the sofa. Her best friend's mother was the only person who understood how she felt and after returning from a visit to Gloucestershire the friend's mother rang to give the sad news that he had died suddenly and unexpectedly. Of course her family had no idea how she had felt, but when she was sick for the whole day it was her father, who suffered from the 'gut feeling sickness' who realised there was something more to it. Regardless of his cast-iron stomach The Pirate said that the kind of love that is  not physical can be powerfully intense, and we all stared out to sea for a moment, before considering The Poet's comments about how the older man might have felt. 

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