Surfing Monk

The IRS is not your friend. Or mine. But Stacy and I had already scheduled our yearly surf trip to Maine and I was determined to enjoy it, knowing it was likely the last vacation of the year.

We started out with a fantastic RedSox game, complete with a possibly drunk guy doing the half-wave. Then Stacy nearly sucker-punched the guy next to her for being a seat hog. I would have sacrificed my hot dog to see that.

Next was surfing and it turns out, hurricanes make for decent waves. Last year, we were in Maine the weekend that Irene hit. Irene = pretty good surfing for beginners. This year, we missed the hurricane by a week or so. Poor timing. And poor surfing. Plus, Stacy had an allergic reaction to her wetsuit and her hands and feet swelled up.

Then as usual, I found every possible way to bruise myself, resulting in 11 bruises and after the mosquitoes were done with me, I was begging Stacy for Benadryl. Two girls + Benadryl = everything is funny and none of it is memorable.

I never saw a moose. And the monks didn’t even venture out of their rooms this year. Or maybe they were all at another beach surfing. Figures.

But we did see a great Memorial Day Parade complete with George and Barbara Bush who were possibly posing for a moose sighting.

All in all, it was a short trip but New England is just lovely and you should visit every chance you get. And if you do happen to see a moose, don’t tell me about it.