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!

There’s been no surf to speak of since Christmas Day, and I didn’t get in then. So despite thinking I might be pushing it, I ran home, suited up and walked back down (car is sick as well).

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…