My Surfer

Y’all know my surfer is a California boy.

Stuck in the south.

For 23 years.

Married to lil’ ole me, about half of that time.

Lil’ ole me who tries ever so diligently to bring him over to the dark side.

Southernized dark side that is.

Grits, seafood chowder, country ham, country music.


Not for this Cali Boy.

Not at a surf contest.

ESPECIALLY not right before he competes.

Heaven forbid Mr. Announcer!

Yeah I said cut it, what of it Mr. Announcer?

67% of the population likes Country Music?

Don’t make me laugh!

You’re serious?

You’re hilarious!!

By the way my wife,  she’s Darth Vader in disguise.

She’s trying to bring me over to the dark side.


So hand over her Keith Urban CD already and let’s get this contest going.


Tickled Red aka Darth Vader


I had a dream sometime in the wee hours of the morning. One of those vivid, all five sense’s engaged, dreams. I dreamed that I woke up and my darlin’ surfer was not beside me. As I sat up and slowly stretched, I could hear faint sounds coming from the living room. There in our immaculate living room I saw my darlin’. The early morning sun softly coming through the windows to bathe my love all the more golden as he was reading the morning paper.The monkeys were still sleeping snug in their beds. It was sublime.

As I took in the  peace and quite I heard one of the most beautiful sounds coming from the kitchen, the sound of the coffee pot. My darlin’s special brew dripping dark, rich, spiced nectar of the gods. There were even two cups waiting patiently on the counter to hold tenderly some of that lovely coffee. At that moment I felt a soft nudge on my back, “Honey…honey? Bye honey.”

“Huh..wha-?” It took me a second to realize that I was still in bed and that it was dark. It had all been a dream. Now there was a really bright light spilling in from the doorway behind my love, casting shadows across his face. He nudged my back again “Bye honey… I’m going?”  I still wasn’t quite awake. “Where are you going?”,  I asked over my shoulder to the dark specter while the bright lights pierced harshly into my cornea’s. “To check the waves, I’ll be back in a bit.”  That statement registered into my foggy brain, was computed as normal at which point my semi functioning brain sent out the correct response, as my head fell with a heavy plop back down on my pillow “Um… okay…have fun…love you…Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”.

Even though I can’t tell you how good the waves are now, seeing as how I am sitting here in my pj’s and I am still groggy from being woken up before the sun rose…again…on a Sunday…again. What I can tell you is that my surfer has been gone more than a bit. If Hurricane Danielle has been kind enough to kick up some decent swell off of our coast he probably has a look and swagger right about now akin to this little photo.

Even if the waves are remotely good, you can bet that he is out there surfing with a perm-a-grin right now. His heart has probably been skipping a few beats and he is happy a lark as he carves his name in the waves with his board. That mans loooooves being in the water and on a surf board. Technically I am his wife but in reality I am his mistress. Not so bad when you think about it, other than my weekends starting entirely too early for my taste.

The photo above was taken with his buddy Dave’s blackberry. They are thick as thieves. This photo is what pops up on Dave’s phone now whenever my surfer calls him.  I can’t make it bigger for ya’ll sorry.

Dave took a photo of me as well the same day…and added “a name”.

Dave isn’t allowed back at my house.

He isn’t even allowed back on my property.

In fact King Zach has specific instructions to gnaw on him the next time he tries to sneak my husband off on another dawn patrol surf session. Nah! I jest. I love Dave, I just don’t love the photo of me munching on cereal that he refuses to remove from his phone. Or the name, we won’t go there.

Seeing as how my surfer took off in the wee hours of the morning and left me all alone there isn’t any nectar of the gods nestled in my hand at this moment, as you may have guessed. Nor is the house immaculate. Thank you Hurricane Danielle for stealing away my Sunday morning snuggle buddy, maker of my divine coffee and object of my GaGa’s. Ah-dreams…why do you always have to tease me so.

So I am off to brew some coffee, decaf that is seeing as how I am trying to cut back on caffeine (sniff-sniff), I would have made an exception for his coffee. I suppose I should also clean a little, as well as make breakfast for the monkeys who just woke up. I’m thinking homemade pancakes with praline crumble and strawberries. Maybe even some homemade whipped cream to top them off.

Giggle…Enjoy those waves darlin’, we’ll be thinking of you 🙂

Have a great Sunday morning with your family,

Tickled Red

It’s my darlin’ surfers birthday!! That’s right everyone 🙂

Un-huh, Oh Yeah! It’s your birthday getcha grove on. It’s your birthday I’m gonna embarrass you! Just a little…I swear!

I have a plan and I really, really need your help to pull it off.

You see as much as my darlin’ is not a huge fan of birthday celebrations for himself (dinner, a cheesecake, movie with the boys and he is good to go) I have always wanted to throw him a HUMONGOUS surprise birthday party but something always gets in the way. Busy surfing competition schedule…grumble, moan, whine, grumble.

My love also humors me when it comes to the blog. He loves that it makes me happy, has me cooking more and has the creative juices flowing but he doesn’t quite get it? Nor does he realize how many of you actually read the blog. Especially when I post Mr. Studly in his wetsuit and board shorts on here…giggle.  To be honest he doesn’t much think about the blog until he looks around at the messy house and says…

” Hey honey? You do realize that there is a world other than cyberspace…wanna join us? By the way super sexy pj’s but after three days of living in them not so much anymore…(sniff, sniff). Who are you talking to on there anyway…little cyber aliens?”

Suck it in honey…you are older today you know. HA,HA…I didn’t mean it…please no pressure points…Hee,hee.

For his birthday this year I was thinking about how much fun it would be to have an online “Surprise!! Happy Birthday Surfer Boy!!”. This way I get to embarrass him just a little, which I love to do and show him how many of you are reading stories about him. He doesn’t believe me…at all…seriously!

So if you are reading this post please drop a little Happy Birthday comment for my darlin’ surfer. Then I am going to sit him down and show him that the little cyber aliens believe he’s just as sweet as I do. Even if he is an instigator and does some crazy extreme shenanigans. This is going to be so much fun ya’ll…well at least for me anyway.

Did I ever tell you all how a lady once said to me, “You go girl! I hear you robbing the cradle and all.”, when friends pointed out to her that my darlin’ was my husband? So if you can guess his age correctly I will see if I can get him to write you back. I can’t make any promises because he can be a bit shy at times depending on the situation. I have a feeling that this little stunt is going to make my guy blush. Come on ya’ll lets make him blush.

Happy Birthday My Darlin’ 🙂 Enjoy the day and all of the attention!

You know that I love you more than my books or my Kitchen Aid mixer my love! So please, please, please don’t hold me down and TICKLE me until I wet my pants when you see this. SMOOCHES

Laughing til’ I can’t breathe,

Tickled Red

Surfing starts his day off right…looking at this over coffee starts my day off right -Grin- Yep, wetsuits ya’ll. Gotta love them.

Thanks to our good friend John for sending me this photo.

New recipe coming this evening until then enjoy the view.


Tickled Red

PS: He isn’t giving John the bird. A little trivia you don’t know about my darlin’, he is missing part of his first digit due to a childhood accident with  his big brother. I’ll just say “hatchet” and leave it at that.

Let me set the stage for you.

Sunday evening we took the monkeys to their annual piano recital. The recital is always held at Ms. Emma’s church, a venerable place of tranquility. The lighting was soft and golden with the sun still illuminating widows of delicate stained glass. Parents were gathered to enjoy a peaceful night listening to young budding pianist and vocalist perform their very best renditions of  Bach, Chopin as well as a few unusual selections.

Just so you know when it comes to musical selections for recitals I am not a puritan about playing only the classics. I encourage the monkeys to spread their creative wings.

The monkeys turns came and they played their pieces.

Sixth on the list to play Monkey Two performed, “May the Force Be With You” & “Imperial March”. Yes my boys picked Star Wars. I have to say, even though I am completely biased, that it was awesome 🙂

Eighth on the list to play Monkey One performed his piece, “Star Wars Main Theme”.

All went well. There were no big fumbles. The monkeys blew through their bows but all in all a good evening. We now had time to sit back and appreciate the next fifteen students talented musical abilities.

As I was listening to a lovely young lady serenade all of us with, “Once Upon a December” the music began to make me feel all warm and fuzzy. I thought to myself about how blessed I am to share my life with three such wonderful gentlemen. Adoringly I looked over at my guys and ???

I spied the beginnings of a smirk on my darlin’ surfer’s lovely mouth along with paper and pencil in my oldest boys hand. There was the slightest of tingles across my neck.  I turned on my camera and held it nonchalantly so as not to tip off the sneaks.

What tomfoolery are you two about?

This can’t be good! We are  in a church surround by parents trying to pay attention to Clementi’s  Sonatina, Op. 36, No. 1 and you two rascals are over there passing notes and giggling, FOR SHAME!! Ummm… what exactly are you guys doing?!?

OH-smirk-MY-snicker-Word muffled giggle!! Bless your fun lovin’ hearts. You guys crack me up.

I see you! Yes you surfer boy! And you are so busted you big Instigator of monkeys and bad influence to our sweet angelic boys.

MmHmm… Gottcha M1! I see you drawing B52’s dropping bombs and blowing that poor stick mans head off with a machine gun.

Ha! Like hiding is going to save you now.  And check out the instigator would you. That’s not remorse or chagrin on his cute face. Oh no! If that isn’t a face full of mischievousness then I don’t know what is. Who am I kidding, I love you even if you are a bad influence sometimes.

I should have been embarrassed and mortified. The thought did cross my mind to slink into another pew and pretend that I wasn’t associated with them but it would’ve never worked.

One: I love them to pieces even if they do entangle me in their shenanigans.

Two: I am not exactly inconspicuous with the red hair and all, so the idea of separating myself never works out in the end.

Three: I was just as guilty of being a distraction to those around us with all of the CLICK-CLICK-CLICKING from my camera. I know the guy in front of me told his wife on the drive home, “Let’s  make sure that we don’t sit near the Star Wars playing, snickering, shutterbugs at the next recital. That surf family beats all!”

Let me give you some details of the drawing because by the time the evening festivities wrapped up more had been added.

B52 bomber dropping not one but two missiles with the name “The Big Boy” written on them.

The poor stick man not only took machine gun fire to the head but a lighting bolt tagged him as well.

Another stick man asking ever so politely, “What’s that smell?” oblivious to the fact that he was about to be struck by a nuclear missile. How do I know it was nuclear? There was the well known radio active symbol drawn in detail on it’s side. Below him was a tank of electric ells.

Let’s not leave out the dog walking stick man stating to whomever shall listen, “Release the dogs”. Oh I forgot, the dogs were chewing on the legs of Mr. “What’s that smell?”.

And last but not least there was a black hole.

Now some of you are probably thinking to yourselves, ” Oh dear! Those guys of Red’s are blood thirsty, warmongering heathens!” I assure you that they aren’t. They are just your average testosterone filled scamps and they are mine all mine. Thank you my loves for the never ending laughs. You TICKLE me always.

What have your monkeys been up too?


Tickled Red

The Instigator and the monkeys struck again ya’ll!! Once I spend the morning figuring out how to clean up the photo’s I will share their latest shenanigan with you. I just can’t take these boys anywhere and yes when I refer to the boys my surfer is included. Bless their fun lovin’ hearts these guys keep me entertained and laughing always.

Have a great morning ya’ll,


See that guy? My cutie, my surfer, my love. Yes that guy. He is an instigator, BIG TIME! A trouble maker with a capitol T and he struck this Easter Sunday. Don’t let the cuteness fool you folks.

Neither should you let this look hide his true nature from you. 90% of the time he morphs into what I call his stern and tough guy look whenever a camera is around. My darlin’ is not a fan of  cameras.

This however is his true nature. It is why I fell hopelessly head over heels into Ga Ga Land never to return. My love plays. He enjoys himself, he has fun and he lives life to it’s fullest. This man of mine constantly makes me go Bubububububu. Kinda like Goldie Hawn in the movie Over Board. Yep seriously bad Ga Ga’s for this guy. My brain ceases to function properly…see… I lost my train of thought. Okay moving on before I cross the line into shameless hedonism and forget my point altogether.

My love. He can take our two quiet, calm, respectful young men and turn them into hootin’ and hollerin’ monkeys. He is a closet mischief maker ya know. He is the biggest monkey of them all.

Our day always starts out benign and innocent. Then you start to pick up on a certain gesture,  specific look, a tone of voice and you know. Your instincts warn you that no good is about to happen. Monkey One gets this. Something’s coming, he can feel it deep down in his bones. You can tell that his instincts have kicked in by his smile. His radar has not missed the mischievous vibes emanating from behind him. Then he hears the ever so subtle jibe of, “Hey son. Your Easter candy sure does taste good”. Instigator in action.

The jibe worked. You don’t ever take one of the monkeys candy and expect to get away with it for long. My boys also know that they can’t beat their dad fair and square either. So my oldest decides on a hit a run approach so to speak. Hoping to get  his stolen candy back via distraction.

Nice try but no cigar kiddo. Dad never once spilled a drop of Diet Coke or stopped eating the candy that he stole. Look he is still munching away back there. At least you got away unscathed my son…this time.

Would you like to see how round two turns out? Look closely at the blue shirt in the background. That would be Monkey One. This time he goes for the ole’ sneak attack. Oops, he’s gotcha!

Still not a drop of Diet Coke spilled by Dad and no candy recovered.

Alright that does it, both of you guys are bad influences. Look at my youngest child. Now he has the hair brained notion to sneak attack someone.

And right on top of me to boot. Yipes!

At least our youngest seems to be the better tactician. He doesn’t go after the insurmountable obstacle of his dad. Not my smart little guy, he goes after his big brothers bag of candy. Dad’s not loving this at all is he?

Monkey Two scores! You had better run like the wind baby. Your big brother won’t suffer loosing his candy to both you and dad.

Yes sirree, I have always told you never to gloat. It catches up with you, pun intended. Well of course I couldn’t let my guys out shine me and have all of the fun. I am good at sneak attacks too ya know 🙂

Gotcha my love’! Not to mention smooching you is always a bonus, so I get the double whammy in points…SCORE!

Now how can I blame my boys for their shenanigans when they come from this man? Can I expect anything less from them when they look UP to him? Literally! Geez you crazy extremest. Could you stop being a monkey, daredevil, bad influence for one minute?

Oh I give up. I am outnumbered and surround by testosterone 24-7. To be honest I wouldn’t change it for all the money or jewels in the world. They keep me on my toes and my days filled with laughter. Not to mention I could just eat them all three with a spoon. Thanks for the perfect Easter Sunday guys. You TICKLE me always and forever.

I am off to see what they are getting into now. Has my darlin’ taught them to bungee from the trees? Jump a ravine with their mountain bikes? Scale the roof with nothing but a shoe string and a piece of gum? There is no telling.

Wish me luck! Send prayers 🙂

Tickled Red

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