Destiny

Seriously . . .

I'm sitting at the fire, watching the sets because of a knee injury (see below), and need to rest. It's a nice fire, a seat constructed from washed up phone poles and a timber 12" by 4" rustic, driftwood about 12 feet long.

I claim status as a master campfire builder beach fire. We're stacking the big stuff, building a coal bed, setting up for extended fire into the night.

OK and so this drop-dead wonderful curly red-haired girl walks onto the beach, headed for the beach fire. (It's public beach fire, for everyone. Not mine!)

"Mind if I join you?"



OMG! I can only pray to the surf dieties that you might sit here . . . !!! . . .  "Yes, do! You wanna smoke some doobie?" Ohhhhhhhhhh wait . . . I left the pipe in the car. Let me go get it!"

"It's OK, I have a spliff here I brought myself. You wanna beer?"

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh !!! Perfect !!! No beer, thanks. I'll just cleanse my palate sipping off yours. Get the weed taste and dry out of my mouth.k You're the red-haired girl Charlie Brown is in love with, aren't you? I'm Allison, what's your name?"

"Destiny."

Glanced at my watch. It was 4:20 PST --That's no bullshit . . . 4:20 PST.

Full disclosure here . . . She was watching her hubby, "Coast Guard Bob" on the red Hobie, 9'4", spectacular board wrangler -- but it goes to confirm that my destiny here is working out, figuratively, literally.