Thursday, 23 February 2017

Laughing up a Lung




Go on, think about it, when was the last time you laughed so hard you cried, or maybe your knickers became a little damp?

I laugh easily and often.

Today we took off to the beach, Currumbin, to see the Elephant Rock. Dog went predictably nuts as she took a sniff of the salt and so she needed to be sorted before any coffee could be got.

It was a spectacular morning at the beach. She played like a maniac and after a brief wait for a table in the shade, we enjoyed our coffee and sweetie and then we were back to the beach.

Chuck the sand game is still a Dog favourite and then I sank into the sand and surf and the buffeting of the waves began. From this vantage point I could still chuck a bit of sand, even though Dog thought it was a bit odd. My arse wedged into a sand hole and I was rocked all around. As the water slapped my face and whipped me around, cork screwing my bum deeper into the pit, I just roared laughing.

Just a bloody marvelous way to spend the morning. Ah.

Home via Bernies Pet Barn Upton Street, to see if they could help us put some oxygen into the pond so the girls can hang in there until our new pump is delivered. And you know why I love going to the family run place not the  big shit franchise place across the street? It's that the Fish Guy, who has been giving me advice for years, thought it was best to lend us a pump until our new one arrives. Yep just a loaner, no charge, no signing our life away, just an understanding that we'll bring it back when we are done and he's happy that the girls are going to be able to breath through our pump disaster. That's real customer service huh?

It really is important to support the local folk whenever you can, and these people are definitely worth our loyalty.

And then to the loo as first priority when we walked in at home. Yeh I quietly lament the loss of a youthful bladder.

Well to say that a child would have been happy with their pop up sand box, would be an understatement. The black tiles turned white, and I laughed again. It's remarkable just how much sand can wedge its way up your goonoo inside your togs, without so much as a howdy-do.

And then I got the broom and dust pan, cos the clean up was not a laughing matter. Bugger.

Oh Well.