Charlie Brown I am NOT!

We spent yesterday at the beach. Picture a still morning, with warm sunshine, gentle (very gentle) waves lapping the shore, and balmy litle zephyr of a breeze. Heaven. Or, it would have been if I'd have gone into the water: I'm still fighting off this bug (I suspect it's not bronchisaurus after all, because never when I've been bronky have I been like this), and didn't feel safe enough to go swimming in case a fit of coughing came upon me and I drowned.

So while N dove in search of dinner (he caught a leatherjacket and we were given four massive trout from the fish-shop), I entertained myself on the shore with my camera and my book and my kite. Charlie Brown I am NOT! (My fluoro bag stood up exceptionally well to the rigours of lugging all my stuff from pillar to post, too)

We spent the whole day on the beach (as testified by my lobstered legs - ouch!), and as evening drew in, it grew still as a millpond:

And we saw the Dreaded Dredger, WAY too close to shore for comfort:

Yik.


Because I had so much stuff with me: kite, poi, books and stuff, I decided to create a dedicated beach bag, in which to leave them (and a bottle of sunscreen), ready to be grabbed for a spur-of-the-moment outing/picnic/etc. Voila! One beach satchel with pockets (and finally a use for the orange velcro)