I was on Swanpool beach earlier, collecting sacks of seaweed for the garden as the sun shone low and surfers frollicked splashily before me.
In the immortal words of Yoda: what a pleasant way to spend a morning.
When I was quite young, I used to pour sand on my hair*, just for the pleasant sensation of rubbing one's scalp to get it all out again. If I'd thought of it at the time, I probably would have done it again, but alas, I've only just thought of it. I could go back, but it's a twenty-minute walk, and it's dark now. I'd end up looking completely insane.
*Like Patroclus does to her hair with chillies, in her dreams. It's Rub Things Into (Or Out Of) Your Hair Week in blogworld, I forgot to say.