So long, Summer. We humbly stand at the dock and salute your fickle ship as it sails west, or south, or wherever the hell you go when it comes time to turn off my landscape irrigation.
You greeted us with some fun Baja peelers, as evidenced by Mrs. HHG, a fun Baja peeler, and the view from our rented deck that was tough to relax on because the kids kept pretending to throw themselves over the rails. Ha!
Kids.
One night you looked like this, and made our dog hide in the closet for two days.
Explosions!
You brought out the east-coast creepie crawlies, and introduced my daughters to a new river, the Housatonic, to add to their ever-expanding list of awkward public places to take off their clothes.
Crawdads!
Now you've pulled anchor, and the boards coming out of my shop are starting to look like this one: PitBoss. OBSF ready. Currently resting on the racks at Almar Glassing in Santa Cruz.
More Hot PitBoss Action here.
Surfboards!
And, based on this morning's buoy readings, Summer's sweet, sweet stepsister Fall has already moved in to take her place.
Swell!
