Taco's Most Wanted

I am sitting in the most amazing soft, oversized chair, surrounded by squishy pillows and a cozy blanket. 

To my right is a window. I opened it up and the most remarkable symphony is being performed by the Pacific Ocean. Every now and then a bird will call out a greeting and a seagull will answer.  It is still very early in the morning. I am sipping coffee. The sky is an icy grey and where it meets the ocean I cannot tell; the line is blurred with a bank of fog. The waves are rushing in toward the beach as though there may be a competition with a prize being awarded to the one that arrives fastest, or loudest and with the most intensity. 

I can see them form off shore and roll toward the finish line -- some are short thin and dainty like young children. They skip and frolic cresting and peaking long before they reach the beach only to be gathered up and swept along by larger and stronger waves behind them.  

Some of them are tall and long and roll like an army charging a hill, waiting for the commander to give the order to draw sword. The order given you can see the first white foamy peak curl over and the rest of the wave follows, creating a beautiful charge of white plumed soldiers slamming with force onto the sand before them, scampering up the beach and to the edge of the cliff bottom right below the house.  I am going to miss them when I leave and it saddens me to think that I only have a few days left. I do not want to leave. 

The sun does not shine every day. There is a hint of chill in the air even when it is warm and the sun is shining. The sky was grey all day a couple of days ago and I have not felt so alive, so vital so vibrant in so long. The sweltering, oppressive heat of Texas wilts me like it does the Impatiens hanging on my front porch.

Withering me, sapping my sparkle, leaching away the muchness that is Tamara. I am afraid that one day I will wake up and be nothing but a pale version of myself that even I can no longer find.

I wonder if I sit here long enough can I soak up the energy coming from those waves.

I made breakfast tacos today. Seamus had never had one. He proceeded to fold it up like an eggroll. I informed him that if he were caught in Texas doing that they would string him upside down at a Quinceanera and beat him like a stubborn Pinata.  Who does that??  Taco abuse, desecration, VIOLATION!!!!!

I have informed the taco police and he is on watch list of their top 10 taco perverts.

I will continue taco school tomorrow!!