Wavy day

Dad and his sand chair

Today I felt like I rode the emotional wave - and no I was not PMS'ing - it is possible to be grumpy, annoyed or down without having Mrs. Flow come to town. (Excuse the rhyme) It began with one of those early mornings - and I have this slight phobia of waking up past 11 if it's a sunny day - it just feels like you're wasting the days potential. All those activities that could be done! They literally run through my head in lists waking each cell up one by one until the anxiety pulls me out of bed. So I slope out from under my duvet, religiously drink my three glasses of water, and do an hour of yoga in the morning sun. It's so nice being outside without having to lather yourself in a thick layer of oily suncream because it's not late/ early enough to make you turn completely beetroot, but just give you a slight blush.
As I finished I see my brother's floppy head bobbing through the door, and with his drooping eyes he slinks down onto the sofa with a book. The role reversal is quite interesting in our family. My 11 year old brother could sleep till 3 whereas I'm up at the crack of dawn - unless the night before involved intoxication of any sort. And while most of my friends refer to their dads as 'the tough ones', mine's a softy and my mum holds the flame. If she raises her voice it's a cue for all of us to put a sock in it.
The sun was almost covered in a muslin cloth - the layer of clouds was so thin but their movement across the sky made the planes look slow. The tide was coming in and the waves on the water were increasing in size. 'Time for a sail!' dad's enthusiasm was met with grunts and sighs. I kind of felt I had a duty to go along with it though, everything's worth a try even though cold winds and wetsuits in a muddy estuary didn't really appeal.

Coastal trail

Before we left I was given the task of taking off all the wooden boards that my pesky cousin had nailed into our sweet tree in the middle of the garden. It looked like it'd been tortured, sap was bleeding out of it at all corners and moss had started to gather at the wounds. I climbed its branches, though struck by slight vertigo, I focused on the climb. Sitting in the top branches of the tree I found a nook and felt empowered looking down below me. After 20 minutes of whining and squealing about how I couldn't do it, I'd managed to knock all the debris out of the tree... throughout the day I'd find patches of tree sap stuck onto my arms, legs and clothes (not the funnest thing to wash off).
My brother's disadvantage of being the youngest means he has to unwillingly comply with whatever decision the rest of the family makes - unless his whining and grumpy moods make way to his choice being heard. But today he didn't luck out and slipped into a wetsuit, making his way into the cold water, dragging the smaller yellow open-top kayak behind him. I followed suit in the big orange one, feeling inappropriately tropical in my strapless bikini (if there's tan potential it has to be utilized). I have never laughed so much while kayaking in all my life. We floated with the wind towards Salcombe, turning the bend to see the beautiful seaside town with it's pastel coloured houses and hundreds of sailing boats gliding along in the morning wind. Turning back, against it wasn't as fun - I got into a rowing zone, despite the frequent splashes of cold water and the harsh gales, I managed to keep going for about five minutes. To then realize that my brother was with me too, I turned around and saw him about 200m behind, rowing his heart out and remaining in exactly the same position, I couldn't help but laugh.

A frame of blue

Holding onto a buoy I waited for him. My mind was drifting to our senior trip in Koh Samui earlier this year, raves in 'green mango', a club that we'd spent most nights in... Nick and Harry, the funny boys we'd met while travelling, I remember when "FINALLY!" Jake arrived and I snapped into life-mode. I let him climb onto the back of my kayak, after he rested his little arms for a few minutes. He dragged his kayak along as I managed to row us both the 300m to the cottage. The day was lazy, salad, fresh bread and cold-cuts for lunch. We discussed plans for the day, and the mention of 'sunny' (my favourite beach here) sent my brother into a strop "why can't we just do nothing!?" The conversation degraded and insults were being thrown across the table, sibling banter, that my father couldn't completely handle. Escapism facilitated the situation and my dad and I went off on a walk, disabling all technology causing my brother to be forced to actually get into his book or spend a bit of time interacting with the world.

The mysterious alien in my tummy 

We walked along the coastal path, overlooking the glittering sea, keeping cool with the never-tiring breeze. We made our way down to the beach with our friends that had joined us. After a swim in icy waters and a few ball games we were on our way back through the forest to the car in order to promptly make our doctors appointment. Turns out I may have a 'tropical tummy disease' brought on my stress due to change, and eating certain foods in foreign, tropical countries. Fan.fucking.tastic. 'Have you been travelling anywhere lately?' Hong-Kong, Cambodia and Malaysia raised the doctors eyebrows and she began taking suspicious notes that were too far out of view for me to read. I knew coming back from holiday without a scratch was too good to be true. My spirits had gone from early-morning-ecstacy, to lunchtime anger with my brother, to tea time high's, and now I was at an evening low. Tropical disease? Perfect mid-summer news.

Mid-Picture chaos

I indulged in a bit of culinary therapy and set out making dinner for the family. Following exact measurements in recipe's, I discovered, is not always clever. I ended up frantic over my disgustingly sweet pea puree as the vegetables and potatoes were getting browner by the minute. I slightly salvaged it by making extra, dumping out half of the original lot and mixing the two together with some acid to sway it's flavour scale. We sat down to crispy chicken, pea puree and roasted veg. A warming way to end the evening. A spliff lifted me back into positivity and now I sit in a light satiated daze, ready to submit myself to a deep sleep.


Recipe of the day: Pan-fried chicken with pea purée and Roasted veg (Don't put honey into the pea purée.)
http://blog.grasslandbeef.com/bid/14677/Chicken-Cutlets-with-Sweet-Pea-Puree-Garlicky-Oven-Roasted-Potatoes