Stop your ferreting…

mini papersurfer

I’ve put all my recent widgets onto one page with a link in the main menu. Just so’s you don’t have to go ferreting around looking for them! Of course if ferreting around in my archive is what keeps your plimsole line above sea level then please ferret away – I don’t mind.

In fact I thoroughly recommend it…

You could start here and work your way up.

I didn’t surf today.

Some days the spark seems to have gone…


A stormy day that never quite happened. The air seemed to get heavier and thicker and the clouds were brewing up for a spectacular light show. A few distant grumblings from a sky with not enough space for the weather held beneath, some brief flashes across the hills and a spattering of oversized rain. Then nothing.

Some days the tranquility and beauty that surrounds this place just isn’t enough for me – it only seems to reflect the solitude and the holes in parts of my life. Spaces that used to be constantly filled with family and friends. Now some get replenished occassionally but there are holes that have such individual impressions they can never be filled. Maybe I don’t want them to be but it doesn’t stop them aching at times.
These last few years have been a staunch lesson in real life for me – the reshaping of a family and the home that held it – and the death a close and beautiful friend who – ironically I suppose – would be the one getting a call on day’s like today…
For a moment I thought I’d lost my mother and I even lost a grip on my own hand for a while…
I keep waiting for the storm to break – one way or the other. I want lightning and hail and thunder that makes dog’s howl. I want the sunshine breaking through the darkness and lighting up the mountains like a wall of gold.
But today the clouds just keep rolling past pushing the humid air down.

Maybe I should go for a surf… sounds like a bleedin’ good idea to me.

Turned on at last…


It seems somebody has flicked the summer switch at last. It’s getting hot.
The bonuses are obvious – no more woodstove nonsense, longer days for work achievement and job satisfaction, pleasant evenings al fresco eating fresh, healthy salads and sipping exquisite vinhos. And other good stuff.

However there are some downs. The pheremonal output of the lads at the grindstone seems to be accelerating and although this might tickle Nurse Myra’s fancy (and the thought of her uniform slipping off is indeed very therapeutic) the funk of a sweaty labourer does not move me in mysterious ways.

I may have to reiterate the union rules once more with an amendment re: crack exposure.
As an exposed pair of sweaty red cheeks is now strictly forbidden and a sackable offence.

AD brought chocolate donuts for a mid-morning comestible today – I’m sure you don’t need to know in which direction the banter delved…

I didn’t surf today.

A bit creaky…

rusty camper

Well another splendid day at grindstone central has been and gone with nothing involving CPR or insurance claims – Dylan is currently welded to the Nintendo and I’m sitting at the computer feeling a tad creaky. I spent the day nailgunning floorboards to joists and I’m fairly sure that the last time I did this I didn’t feel quite so stiff at the end of the day. It won’t be long before I’m borrowing one of Daddy P’s zimmer frames.

Most of today’s amusement was supplied trying to remember various 80’s artists and their relevant hits. For example – which all girl UK combo sang ‘Iko Iko’ and ‘Sign of the times’ and which brother from Bros went on to play an evil vampire in Blade III? These are very important and probing questions into areas of vital historical fact.
Obviously these sorts of questions would normally be categorised as ‘trivia’ but I like to think of them as essential knowledge and when armed with such any days activity – no matter how mundane can be enhanced immensely.

Of course these highbrow discussions normally dissolve into talk of norks and arses – not far to fall really I suppose…

I didn’t surf today. Fancy a surf trip? Look here

Just when you thought it was safe…

You think they’re gone. Then the phone rings or the inbox is winking.

Today’s requests are in – ‘Please could you just ‘do me a link for this’ or ‘site counter’ that?’

Next thing you know he’ll be round minutes before teatime with a bag full of rancid washing wondering if he can borrow the car for the night…


‘Could you just….?’ is of course the single most expensive way a client can start a sentence along with ‘hmmm – I think you were right – that might look better over there!’ and of course ‘…it probably wouldn’t take you long to…’
I think that Papa shmurfer should bear that in mind during his quest for independence in the blogosphere. Consultancy is a very lucrative business.

Of course I am more than happy to assist the old giffer in any way I can especially after all the years of emotional investment he’s ploughed into fostering me. Sometimes I even think of him as my real Dad…

You’ll all be pleased to know that I had a simply loverly day back at grindstone central. The dust in my nose, the sawdust in my eyes. The witty banter and sparkling humour that only builders can provide. Needless to say (my clients are readers) that all is going swimmingly and the house isn’t falling down or anything vaguely bad like that at all in any way whatsoever in the slightest. Honest.

I didn’t surf today.

Free at last…


Well the day has to come when your cute ickle baby bird becomes a big spotty manly bird and you have to boot his ugly arse out of the homestead. Years spent nurturing and loving seem to be thrown back with no gratitude or grace. I gave him everything I had – my love, my knowledge but there has to be a moment when you just let go…

Today is that day.

Daddy Papersurfer has come of age – his slot on the guest page wasn’t enough to satiate his thirst for blogging freedom. He is now a man possessed – not by greed or lust, he doesn’t want power, fame or fortune. He just wants to write a constant stream of drivel whenever the fancy takes him.

So now he has wings and his own URL – fly away little bird – fly. But watch out for those kittens…

Daddy Papersurfer

I didn’t surf today. (Did I mention the surf convoy?)

Flat as a witches tit…

A well known Devonian phrase for describing a completely waveless oceanic state.


However – I know a couple of witches and to be fair they are quite bountiful in the nork department and (as was pointed out to me just the other day) if one was a witch (a hypothetical situation as I am obviously male and would therefore be a ‘warlock’ if I were a practitioner of the dark arts) one would have the use of magic and all that entails and one would knock up a batch of ‘nork enhancing potion’ in ones bubbling great big cauldron. Wouldn’t one?
Kazaam – perfect, humungous but perky breasty dumplings!
So pick on somebody elses tits!

I rest my tit case.

I have an idea that involves me (and some of you) surfing a lot so have a look at the surf convoy and let me know if that appeals to anyone…

I didn’t surf today – but plans are afoot.

Good things come to those that wait…

Or should that be the one that got away?

First – here’s the view from the back door of my truck at sunset on my birthday. Please imagine me, a few friends, a rather large glass of Maciera (it says brandy on the bottle but it sure ain’t! More like turps with colouring) the gentle lap of the waves against the shore… swooshhh swooossshh swooo. Whatever. Anyways – it sure was purdy!


Okay. So one of the best techniques to induce maximum heart rate acceleration is to paddle into the sea during a building swell. You think you’ve made it out back where the waves just move you rhythmically up and down, you’re safe to stop and catch some breath before looking out for a possible ride – then the horizon starts to twist a bit. This is due to a line of swell approaching that will undoubtedly break at the next bar out. Too far out. If you’re lucky you’ll spot it in time and paddle beyond the new impact zone – if you cut it close you get to punch a duck-dive through the face just below the breaking lip of the wave. If luck isn’t quite with you then a rather large quantity of fast falling water will shove you to the bottom of the sea and keep you there in a cold boiling mess of water and bubbles, sand and confusion.
I like to opt for either of the first two if possible.
Today was such a day – a sloppy foot of wind chop punctuated with ever growing sets. For a while the wind backed off, making things more predictable and a few exciting drops were made. A couple opened up nicely for a moment and I got some speed and made some turns.
The wave of the day however, was just out of my reach – an overhead left that arrived just before I got to turn and take it. There’s always one that gets away…
Eventually the oxygen left my limbs (technical term – ‘noodle arms’) and I crawled onto the beach.

So – I’m back home in the mountains again now – time to get back to some real life – work and stuff. Maybe that’s the wrong way round…

I surfed today. Woohoo.