Surfing Tales, Part 2

Bright and early on Christmas Eve day the crew--My Mom, My Sister, and I the casual observers; My Dad and Conservative Hubby ready to hit the waves--headed down to the beach to meet Peter, the surf instructor.

Peter was, of course, exactly what you'd expect from a California surf instructor. Laidback. Lean and muscular. Shaggy blond hair. Willing to leave late for his Christmas Eve travels in order to squeeze in an extra surf lesson.

He met us in the parking lot by the beach and proceeded to pull surfboards and wetsuits out of the back of his white van.

My Dad and Conservative Hubby got geared up and we snapped the requisite pre-surfing photos. (Please note Conservative Hubby's loafers. Only Conservative Hubby would wear loafers while in a wet suit.)

Then we all headed for the beach.

And oh what a glorious surfing morning it was. Bright blue sky, sunshine, great beginner waves. It started out a bit chilly but got warmer as the morning progressed.

The boys began on land, of course, learning how to properly navigate the waves on their boards, how to stand, and what to do once they were standing.

My Mom and My Sister looked on.

Once the boys were good and practiced onshore, it was time to head for water.

And to promptly get knocked over by a wave.

My Dad came out of the chute ready to go.

He was on the board paddling.

He was breaking through waves.

He was making his move.

He was on his hands and knees.

He was almost up.



He was riding in

like a pro

thinking this was a piece of cake.

No problem.

And then he was off the board.

And then he was down.

Between Conservative Hubby and My Dad, we experienced more than a few glorious wipe outs. (This one was Conservative Hubby ... or at least his board.)

Conservative Hubby did not have the initial showy surfing skills My Dad exhibited--he was more careful, methodical, waiting for the right waves. But he may or may not be in slightly better shape than My Dad, so when they all came in for a break, My Dad decided he was sufficiently exhausted.

Conservative Hubby chilled for a minute,

reluctantly participated in my photo shoot, and then headed out again.

Only this time, the long-haired family member heading out with Conservative Hubby and Peter wasn't My Dad ... it was My Sister, who decided it was time to get in on the fun.

What happened next?

That, my friends, you'll have to wait and hear about tomorrow.

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