I have always loved reading old diaries of distant lives. Here you can read my ongoing story, a log of riding a log (if you will) with musings, tales, poetry, jargon, secrets, cliches, whatnots and whatever else might pop into my head. So next time you are stuck indoors, pull up a warm chair and read about the simple happenings of my life in the Pacific Ocean.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Friends of Point Loma

Sometime, a year or so ago, I ran into friends before surfing. It was a strangely foggy morning and I was out unusually early. At the top of the hill, a few from the local group coincidentally pulled up at the same time. I remember that day so well. Kirk brought his friend Heather to surf Palos Verdes for the first time on the board he had shaped. She and I instantly bonded (between some silver morning waves). I happened to mention that I was moving to Point Loma: turned out that is where she lived.

Since then we have gotten together a few times. Today was one of those. She picked me up and we went to her lovely abode. She showed me her incubating chickens, backyard garden and new board. We even had fun plucking feathers for earrings. Sometimes, I think Heather and I are the same person. Her roommate had just won a foodblog recipe contest that she served to us for brunch. (I brought some passion fruit from the community garden for the event. She won a trip to San Francisco for a foodblog festival.) I told her about my favorite hostel there and she said that would be perfect because she was looking for somewhere to stay. Turns out the event is only a few block from the hostel. Things sometimes just seem to workout so well. After sharing travel tips we shared food. A few others joined us along the way. We all sat and ate together. Homemade bread, fresh herbs, eggs, tomatoes and good people. Every plate was licked. (Check out what we ate.) Afterwords, we all went down stairs to the landlords' house. A man, damp with salt water and wearing chipped glasses greeted us with a smile. We were introduced to him then his wife and then some bees. Together, the retired couple and young women of the house had been harvesting honey. They rigged up a filter with five gallon buckets and cheese cloth, then we watched the golden syrup fold ribbons into our jars. We all got to bring some home as well as enjoy the honeycomb. Everyone brought something to the table today and left with something as well as a full stomach and new friends.

I even ran into some of them in the water this afternoon and we talked between sunset waves.

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