: …surfing, writing, cymraeg, apple macs, iphones, tech+gadgets, rambles+rants, book reviews, charting the changing seasons on llangrannog beach, corgis and cute things, retail therapy, craft, the craft, inspirations, randoms… :
Category Archive: beach
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Roedd Lochtyn yn edrych yn hardd y bore ‘ma am naw; ro’n i wrth fy modd yn rhedeg yn yr haul. Ro’n i’n ymdrechu lan i ben y bryn ac aeth cadno heibio yn y cae drws nesaf. Stopiodd e i edrych arna i, wedyn wyff, bant â fe. Anifail rhyfeddol, er gwaethaf ei archwaeth am y ieir lleol!
Es i yn y môr ddoe i syrffio; roedd popeth yn hyfryd ond tymheredd y dŵr — brrr! Felly ro’n i’n bach o ‘wuss’ heddiw — arhosais i ar y traeth gyda llyfr.
Yfory, bydda i’n gweithio, wedyn rhedeg, syrffio, bwyta, ymlacio a darllen ar y traeth, os ydy hi’n mor dwym unwaith eto!
The other day I found a big piece of green sea-glass, a big piece of white, a tiny sliver of yellow and this small blue corner. Who knows what the whole word was, but what remains on this lovely bit of blue is ‘vies’.vie
1. to strive in competition or rivalry with another; contend for superiority: Swimmers from many nations were vying for the title.
Origin: 1525–35; by aphesis
Middle French envier to raise the stake (at cards), Old French: to challenge, provoke, Latin invītāre to entertain, invite
1. compete, contest, struggle.
A pretty cool find! This one I’ll be keeping for myself, to remind me to try my hardest. I have a lot of goals which mean a lot of work — finishing my novel, writing more poetry, getting a lot better at Welsh, getting some things published via competitions and in writing journals and so on, keeping up with my fitness programme (and getting back into my skinniest jeans), and earning some serious money, goddamit!
Better get on with it then…
Been ill for a couple of days, nothing bad but with dizzy spells and super tired — I couldn’t read or write, argh! My head was not my own. I felt like like one of those dull, negative people who have little curiosity in life, who are always whingeing, always ill, never get off their backsides. (I know a few people who think life owes them something. It doesn’t; you have to put in to get out, then wow, watch out.)
Then I woke up this morning as the moon began to wane, and my head was clear again, just like that. So I went for a run in the sunshine and saw…waves, oh!
The storms razed the banks, then the last week of calm weather has seen a lot of the sand return. There’s a pool where the bank usually forms, and the waves are breaking further out. I didn’t catch anything at all, then it went flat and I gave up.
Around this time of year my surfing ability plummets totally, which is depressing, but it’s a beautiful day. And as I write there’s a wookpecker on the bird feeder — rare sight. I hope he’s not hungry because the boys have coppiced his favourite tree.
Back to my studies, and today I want to do loads of Welsh, because I was too dizzy to go to class on Tuesday. I have craving for cynghannedd…
I haven’t been surfing for weeks now. I can’t watch any online or I get irritated, and I’m so envious of those who are currently in warm, wavy places. It’s snowy here… The sea was as flat as I’ve ever seen it in winter yesterday, a half-foot peeler today. Not very happy.
To get surf fit I’ve been swimming and doing a bit of yoga, and to get my fix of the coast I’ve been walking the dogs as usual, but also running…ugh. I’ve hated it since school, as I suppose many people do. I had a big ginger screamer of a PE teacher who’d send us on sadistic cross-country runs and pop up shouting at the hardest points. The other PE teacher was a blonde the boys drooled over who could out-distance any of us and had a penchant for stretching her perfect legs in front of everyone. Shudder.
Running around here is a whole different matter, and if it gets results (i.e. fitting back into the pink Snugg wetty) then I’m all for it, even today when it was absolutely raw.
It’s all thanks to a book called Run Fat Bitch Run which my mother bought me (yes, charming) which demystifies and talks straight about running. None of that blocks of numbers (3 x 300m at 3/10, 4 x 200m at 7/10 etc.) and buying £100 shoes crap, just get out there and move your ass. It reads like my sister talks (blunt, no bullshit) and so far, it works. I’m not supposed to yap about it until I’m a few months in, but I’m a convert.
I had an utterly superlative surf just down the coast at a spot with a waterfall yesterday as the evening drew in. I left home with 12 people scrapping for one big shifty peak, chaos, and found golden light on black water and clean 2-3ft lefts with just one other person out at first. Had four nice long rides and one lip bounce thing I nearly landed.
Big this morning, very setty and heavy. Waiting for the drop, trying to get some work done, not getting much done at all.
All sorts of weather blowing through at the moment, and plenty of surf too.
Rain and sun and rainbows, windy then calm and glassy, dark early, surfing blue black with a pale bright half moon this evening. Winter suited and trying not to hate the fight that it is to be so insulated.
Last week the beach was wild, big waves, total mess, howling wind, banks of foam. The week before I was sitting reading on Cilborth in bikini and flipflops! This day I could just about stand up in it and I was the only person on the beach. Good to get some salty air blown into me. Found a nice piece of driftwood as well, it’s going to be a ‘gone surfing’ sign.
This week it’s proper autumn with a healthy smell of wet leaves, a lot less people about and lots of busy wildlife getting ready for winter.
I’ve started a new Welsh class, a phopeth yn llifo yn ol, diolch byth. Bydda i’n rhugl cyn diwedd y flwyddyn…efaillai.
The Indian summer was more like a French summer for one glorious hour this week. I know the surf has been much better elsewhere, but in the absence of a camper van (yes, I’m banging on about that again) I have to ignore ‘elsewhere’.
Anyway, wouldn’t want to be elsewhere when the Nog is going off. Clean, 3ft, grinding, sandy dredgers, steep fast takeoffs with often nowhere to go but a hell of a ride towards it, blue skies and hot enough for my eyebrows to feel like they were burning off. Could almost have done away with the wetsuit. Yes it only lasted an hour, but it was like Hossegor. And there was a huge, huge bull seal eyeballing me in the lineup.
Had a session last week where I caught innumerable wonderful waves, lost count of how many and how happy I was with them. This is the usual autumn awesomeness where I feel fit and like I can actually surf well. Even had the best surfer in the area saying, that was a really nice last wave. Why thank you (no need to sound quite so surprised!). My board smacked me on the head hard enough after one wipeout to have me spitting blood from a bitten tongue and to give me mild concussion, but it was worth it.
New tootsie design, last of the summer! Waves, of course…
And I have got loads of sea glass and found some courses. I’m super keen. Here’s the most beautiful teardrop piece, a perfect pendant. I’ll have trouble selling what I make! I also found a super-rare amber piece! And some more darker greens. Very lucky. Low tides and waves bring it up.
An octopus came up on the beach last week. Dad says the Gulf Stream has switched up to Scotland, so things might be off track. Some guy walking or fishing around Lochtyn headland fell off the track all right, and the inshore and helicopter came to get him, drama on the beach – extremely skilled pilot to land here.
Otherwise, things are being a bit frustrating. I’ve lost one of my mother’s tortoises, which is going to cause trouble, not that it’s my fault. Trying to be helpful and organise things has led only to stress. I’ve done too many shifts in the pub and totally lost my sense of humour with the stupid questions people ask and the petty egos of others. WordPress updating broke my other blog (http://www.perfectlyput.co.uk) and writing hasn’t been going that well, though I’ve just done a chapter now, at last. I generally can’t be arsed, in fact, and sincerely hope this passes soon!
Need to get out of the village methinks – back to that campervan…