Evening surf at OP last night ended up being rather fun with Sir R and Mean Howard. I cut too hard on my first wave and dug a rail (almost the entire length of my board) into the wave. Mushy waves require gentle finesse and body english, I discovered. Slow waves are nice sometimes because you can look down the wave and see four moves ahead. If you know where you're going, it's easier to understand how you're supposed to get there.
This morning, I was back at OP because Mean Howard woke me up at 6am with a phone call. "It's foggy and I don't want to go out alone." It was okay. Not as fun as the previous morning with bigger walls and sunnier sunshine, but still... it's surfing.