|Gregg throwing the tail out on an Avon inside reform|
In many ways, I don't have to. (this is where in the old days, I would say because I am about to go to a hot clime for the winter). How life has changed, for the better though I might add. We are now the proud owners of a 1 week old baby. We went for a volume of 7lb 11 in the end, and female over a boy. We already had a boy in the quiver so thought best to go for the female model to cope with all conditions. Where the boy was quite a handful and hard to get under control (was very good once mastered), the girl model seems to be a much more sedate ride and much smoother over the chop, although I think at the top end will probably not be as radical as the boy model. But you never know until you get at least a couple of years experience.
In all seriousness though, and I am sure (I hope to GOD) that this will change (I'm not sure I even believe in god, so that is how desperate my hope has become. Maybe I hope to Newton). Because right now, I don't see how to go windsurfing again!! At present I seem to be the boy models constant entertainment system, Liz pre occupied mostly with the girl model, although now and again I get to use that one too.
So back to the start, I don't mind it is baltic. At least I can chop wood for the fire. My mind is not on windsurfing for a few months, unless it is seriously good - then there is always a way. Hopefully by then, we will have worked it out, if not I might be chopping my fingers off.
In my head it will work like this for the time being. I go to Southbourne with the boy model. Watch the lads on the water, do some photography and even some filming. Rig up, get in wetsuit. Quickly drive back. Drop the boy off for an hour or so, put turtle film or BFG on, hit the water at the peak time for a power session. Speed de rig, and then whiz home to relieve Liz of the mayhem. Sounds to me like a good plan. We, by design, only live a couple of minutes drive from the sea front.
In the meantime here are some pictures to relieve the strong winds we had that Matthew Wigham took in the fading light of one warm Saturday.