To insanity and beyond ...: The wind can rattle my bones.

“Always find beauty in things that are odd - imperfect

- they are much more interesting.”

~ Marc Jacobs

Any interest I MIGHT have had in the Americas Cup has long gone. It’s impact on the immediate economy has been dismal. It’s affected productivity AND sales. The number of people letting of steam about the sailing ... and the inability or otherwise of Team NZ to pull of a win ... is phenomenal. Everyone ... and I mean EVERYONE .... is talking about it.

In the words of an individual called Sandy Abbott who wrote an open letter to Emirates Team New Zealand “No other country does this like we do. This is who we are. This is why we win. When you take on Team New Zealand, you take on the whole country.”

I’d be lynched if I even for a moment suggested that Oracle deserve to win as they’ve come from a 7-1 deficit to an 8 all tie ... but I know nothing about sailing.

It’ll all be over tomorrow and the country COULD be in mourning. I hope I’m wrong.

Yachting aside, the hound and I have thoroughly enjoyed our rather wet and windy rambles the last two days. They’ve been so therapeutic. There’s something about the wildness of the weather that’s appealed to my mood. That low pressure front engulfing the country has bought copious amounts of rain and Wellywood wind with it.

It has been blowing .... HARD.

Standing at the viewsite this morning with the wind rattling my bones was unreal. I spoke to the hound and the words whistled off into the ether. She looked as confused as I did. My mouth was moving but neither of us could hear what was coming out of it.

Somewhere someone down on the beach must have heard me laughing.

I hope it made them smile.

The gulls were performing their usual aerial acrobatics. Wind propulsion enables them to perform the MOST incredible manoeuvrers .... all quite unintentional. I lost count of the number of times they overshot their landing and had to circle round and try again. It was like watching jets landing at an airport.

The sparrows don’t appear to struggle as much with the wind as the gulls do. The cheeky little blighters flit from branch to ground and back again totally unperturbed by it all. In the meantime I’m struggling to keep my hair out of my mouth and to propel the rugby ball in any direction but BACK at me!

Our time in the waves ... and the wind ... is over FAR too quickly on the days that I work. Caffeine fix to hand, the hound and I take the back road home. Life goes on.