Slightly crooked scan of possible new ORIGINAL ERWIN longsleeve t-shirts. AND I do still have some of my more recent designs with some hoodies. If I get up to Port Angeles, I will add to whatever shirts are remaining at NXNW SURF SHOP. I will update this with the latest sub-chapter of my novel, “SWAMIS” on Wednesday.

JOEL CARBON, Port Townsend surfer, originally from Long Island, sent some shots he took on a recent trip; ROCKAWAY BEACH, evidently, one of the only surf spots in New York, or, at least, the best known. Joel is representing the Olympic Peninsula by wearing a hoody from the HAMA HAMA OYSTER COMPANY.

Worldwide local from Hama Hama, ADAM ‘WIPEOUT’ JAMES sent a few photos from Wyoming. Adam and his family seem to go to their to play cowboy and, evidently, hunt.

I know Montana is the Big Sky state, but Wyoming, with its unofficial state motto being “Equal Rights,” might just believe they deserve a bit of that. This is actually the hunting party headed back to the ranch, but you have to like the look. A little spooky.

SPEAKING OF SPOOKY, I was trying to find my way back to SURF ROUTE 101 from a job in Sequim when I came upon this yard display. WHOA! Not sure what I was looking at, I had to do a u-turn, and then another. I stopped across the street and took a photo, a little concerned that if I stayed too long in my decorated Volvo, it might not be appreciated. SNAP. Shift. Go!

I DO TRY and fail to convince people (well, potential clients, anyway) that I am not political, but, really, is this pro or anti-Trump?

I AM WORKING OUT a concept for an ideal for an essay (chuckling here because of Citizen Trump’s plans for everything other than revenge) on time and dreams and whatever else comes to mind when I actually write the piece.

Here are a couple of the pieces: Wanting to get up early to give me more of a chance to hit some waves, I went to bed early. I woke up at 11:11, time confirmed by the projected light on the bedroom ceiling.. Then I woke up at 1:11, then 4:44. Thankful that the geniuses who created time and divided it into smaller segments, all so we can increase our anxiety just a bit more. Tick, tick, tick; I’m just grateful there no 6:66.

NOW, THE HORSE- I had a dream where I was actually surfing rather than searching for waves that go away when I get closer. I rode a wave, evidently at a beach break, though there was some reference to Windansea earlier, as in me saying to someone who wasn’t in the dream frame, “That’s Windansea over there. Not really breaking. If you look over there (farther away than it is in real life) that’s Big Rock.” ANYWAY, I get something like a GoPro view of a frothy wave, pull out into more froth, look outside to see a broken wave headed toward me. I push through that one, with another bearing down on me. SUDDENLY a white horse comes up beside me out of the foam. “Oh, a sea horse,” I say, possibly out loud. I didn’t check the time on the ceiling.TICK, TICK, TICK. I woke up at 5:25. Thinking I might get another few minutes of sleep, I got out of bed at 5:55.

It is now 8:19 Pacific Standard Time, confirmed by some sort of satellite, though probably not the one that controls the weather and targets trailer parks.

Gotta go! Daylight to burn and hay to make (metaphorically) while the sun shines. When the rain comes and the swells rotate in… that’ll be another story. Hit some waves, share some waves, be nice in the water, and, um, you know, have a good TIME.