There is a growth period
There is a growth period with any new hobby and golf is no exception. It's not that I suck. It's not that I'm good. It's just that I have no consistency what-so-ever. We played 14 holes this morning before the wind, rain, hail, and lighting forced a retreat. The first nine were hit and miss. Erin and Sandra were having so much fun not giving a rat's ass about how they were doing that Urs and I actually had to shush them a wee bit so as to not get booted off the course by the wandering enforcers on their battery powered chariots. You could seriously hear them both for 2 or 3 holes in either direction. Women. Heh. They headed out for lunch after the first nine and Urs and I continues alone. My game improved dramatically between nine and fourteen to the point that I was driving like a rock star... Well, a rock star with a serious slice at any rate. Good fun at any rate. When we were forced back to the clubhouse by the torrential downpour and driving hail, we had to detour because several of the golfers playing the Creek Course were in the tunnel enroute blocking our way. Urs and I actually had to drive the cart across the main road to get back to base. We looked like drowned rats when we arrived. I slept the afternoon away. It wasn't my intent really, but once we got home and were clean and dry, the bed was so inviting. What is it about a rainy Sunday that tempts coma? I think it was around five o'clock when I dragged my carcass out of the rack. Irfan was leaving his mother's (near my place), so we met for coffee. I needed a multi-shot espresso to revive me to the land of the living. Pei Wei take out and some dinner and convo at home over a nice bottle of red followed to end the daylight hours of a full Sunday. My Saturday wasn't glamorous, but it was certainly booked. EL and I had a fab brunch with friends before taking in some Shrek 2. More an adult film than a children's film if you ask me... and I don't mean the full penetration sort either... not that there's anything wrong with that... but still, the references were far beyond the typical fart jokes that kids eat with a spoon full of sugar. I dug it all. Thick and juicy steaks were on the grill and the feast was on. We played cards, finished a bottle of wine, and moved on to a fine, aged single malt before wrapping up the night in light of our early tee time. Friday is a blur really. It's probably best I don't try to remember Friday at this point. It seems the weekend has slipped away and the old adage about time and fun is in fact true after all. Monday is back to work, but only for a day of two. Vacation is on the horizon my friends. w00t!
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