A truely magical day. Started with a 10km bike ride - now that might not sound like heaven to most people and it's not something that comes naturally to me but the "post 10km bike ride" benefits are huge and worth struggling through, the foot wide wedgie courtesy of the bike seat, helmet hair and the bugs in my lipgloss.
Bike seat wedgie and all, I much preferred this form of exercise to that chosen by Scott, who decided to run 8 of the 10 kms I rode. I didn't know the human body could produce that shade of red in a face without the aide of several hours of scorching sunshine, but clearly I was wrong.
Torture session over with, I set the table out under our big silky oak complete with vintage white linen and fresh flowers from the garden. A full cooked breakfast tastes that much better eaten on old linen, in the sunshine whilst looking out over the farm. Bliss. Of course the huge breakfast completely negated the 10m bike ride, but it was worth every damn mouthful.
Following breakfast we prepared to go to the beach for the day. This involved, amongst other things, the slightly overdue "deforestation" of the bikini line. Another form of torture. Usually carried out on a monthly basis to keep the less glamorous aspect of my french heritage under control, everyday over the allotted monthly maintenance schedule means substantial effort to regain lost ground. So, an entire packet of wax strips and substantial bruising in all the wrong places later, I'm as fit as I'm going to be without lipo or surgery, to squeeze myself into togs and hit the beach.
We dropped the four legged kids off at their Nana Murphy's and head off to the beach for an amazing day of surf and sand. There is nothing so cleansing or soulful as diving into the ocean and letting the great earth mother wash away all your cares - oh, and it's damn soothing on the effects of the giant wedgie and the tender and bruised bits recently waxed within an inch of their lives...
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