It's 5:30 in the morning, and I'm conceding failure. I didn't fail to do it. I failed to reasonably attempt it, and not knowing where the pain in my leg and the pain in my hand came from is no solace. And I did not come home with the board, just as I said I would. *grin*

No. It was an attempt. It was a good attempt. And I even think I know what stopped me. No, wait, I don't, or at least it's gonna take a while to articulate. I vaguely feel like Tom Cruise at the end of "The Last Samurai" "Risky Business". If I'm remembering the end correctly, it's been a while.

I have jury duty today. And there's sand in my bathtub and in my kitchen sink. It occurs to me that in 10 years, I've never gone into the Pacific Ocean. It's a thing that's always been there, always made its presence known, and I've never really touched it. Too cold, I thought. But it's not. It's too cold to recreate in it. And I love it. And I love high tide. It just doesn't love me back.

Oh, and thank you.