Sun, sand, and slacklining

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have worn a skirt.

Slacklining looks hard. It's harder than it looks....

Slacklining requires you to step up to the rope with one foot and denim skirts don’t really let you do that (unless maybe you wear one of those “hi, here’s my ass” skirts that are so short that, well, you can pretty much see the bottom of the wearers butt cheeks).  Hitching up said skirt, I lifted my right leg and put my foot on the line.  Slacklining looks hard, but goodness, it’s way harder than it looks!  As soon as you stand up on the one leg, the line starts swaying this way and that while you’re up there trying to make your legs like jelly (jello) just to keep up with the line, all the while making sure your skirt doesn’t travel north past the bottom of your butt cheeks.  Maybe I should have put on my swimming suit before slacklining to avoid the whole lack of movement problem.  After several goes, I managed to take one whole step on the slack line before falling off.  Doesn’t seem like much, but try it, and you’ll be proud of one step too.

Between my turns on the slackline,  I had to amuse Hannah by taking her down to the sand.  Otherwise I found myself chasing after her chasing after a passing dog, kid, random stranger, person on a bike, anything really.  Or she would get dangerously close to the slackline (while someone was on it) trying to grab it.  She hadn’t been to the beach since the Christmas holiday to Byron Bay.  I carried her down to the sand, put her down, and immediately she started feeling it, picking it up, walking in it, tasting it (I don’t think she was impressed).  She even laid down

Well, I managed to get on at least

(on her belly) and made a sand angel.

Hannah gets buried