Saturday, March 2, 2024

GOLF GYPSY--UP TO HER KNEES

 

"If your knees aren't dirty by the end of the day, you ought to seriously re-examine your life."  Bill Watterson


I ponder whether this quote is meant for gardeners or golfers.  I do, however, have a golfing friend who found out the hard way what it means to have your knees dirty by the end of the day. 

During a warm fall day, she (who will remain nameless) duck hooked her ball into a nearly dry pond on hole #8 at The Trails Golf Course. Normally, this pond is full of intimidating water, although I personally believe that the water table rises in the summer and spring because of all the golf balls that are covering the bottom of the water. 

Playing with her son and best friend, she was determined to hit the ball, lying 20 yards away, out of the drying sucking muck. Her first mistake was thinking she could even get to her ball. The muck showed prior footsteps that a dinosaur could have made squishy sticky and deep. 

Her first steps were down the embankment covered in grass and rocks, allowing her to sidestep any slippery slope. Her next few steps were sticky and slippery. Luckily, she carried her 8 iron with her for balance and to strike the ball. She took another few steps confidently getting deeper into the muck allowing her to walk and not lose her shoes.  She knew she could hit her ball out of the muck and onto the green grass near the hole. 

In the final approach to her ball, she began to tip from side to side while her friend and son looked on, already realizing that she might be in trouble. 

No one remembers whether she hit the ball or if she even reached the final destination. What they do recall is her sudden high-pitched scream heard 'round the golf course, "I can't move! My feet are stuck!" 

"Seriously," her friend called out, "pick up your feet slowly, one by one, and turn around."

"I can't," came the scream.  Like Tonto sinking in the quicksand, they watched as she mucked around shoeless and sinking deeper with each step. The Lone Ranger was not there to rescue her. What were her friends to do?

It was serious enough that no one bothered to take a picture. 

Her son grabbed his driver and slowly made his way towards his mother. Her friend took the arm of the son and a saving lifeline was created. However, it was noted that the people playing on the green on hole #7 watched and could not or did not choose to help. An imagined cartoon picture shows the on lookers laughing and pointing in disbelief.

At last, her son hollered, "Mom, this is serious. Forget your shoes and turn around and grab the driver." 

"But my hands are sticky, and I'll ruin your new club." She replied. "I can't balance myself enough to carry my club and reach."

"Mom, throw that club up on the bank after you take two steps toward me."

Whether in anger or fear, she took two sucking steps and threw the club out of the mud hole and past the golf cart to the middle of the fairway, and in the same action grabbed her son's club head and nearly fell face forward. 

With the strength of Sampson her son stood still and pulled slowly allowing his mother to take one small step at a time until the ground could hold her. 

Slowly methodically two people stepped backwards crawling out of the mud and muck, while the golfer stepped forward toward the shoreline. 

When all were safe on the dry fairway their laughter could not be contained. 

Her knees were dirty brown by the end of the day.

As she thought about her decision to hit the ball out of the mucky pond, she could only laugh. Those of us who witnessed the event or heard about it from others, who saw and heard the live action, won't forget the sight, and recognize that only a truly dedicated daredevil golfer would ever attempt that shot and we love her for that reason. 


**For images of Bill Watterson quotes click on this link Calvin and Hobbs


Friday, February 23, 2024

Big Bad Ass Bald Cypress by Murphy Doodle


Letty says that it has been a long winter and she is tired of me dragging in leaves and twigs,

first of all, i do not drag anything into our house but sometimes when i shake my body, brown pieces of leaves and grass fly through the air,

even i do not like the brown twigs that stick to my tail and ears,

it is not my fault that brown needles from a tree called bad ass bald cypress sticks to my fur,


that is why i shake in the house and rub my head on the carpet

most of the time letty and jack pick the needles out of my hair, and i don't cry or act like a whimp when it pulls or bites, i am not a puppy

one night when i was scratching and itching because of the nasty needles letty told me that the bad ass cypress will grow a new set of lovely russet-red lacy needles this spring,

if that is what poet tree is then whoever said that has never slept with red lacy needles in their tail
 
the lady who gives me baths and loves on me while she dries my hair told me that i was really dirty and sticky this winter

I hung my head

i am lucky to have a lot of curly hair that keeps me warm in the winter,

when the lady who cuts my hair shaves by body i don't get cold but i do look funny and skinny, no one says I am a cute dog when my hair is not curly,

but the big bad brown needles do not stick to my short hair except on my long wagging tail,  

today is not winter where i live, so jack sits outside with me on afternoons like this and keeps me company,

when we are swinging the big ass cypress stands bald behind the swing in the gardeners yard, i think bald means no hair and maybe the same thing for a tree, that is because all of the trees hair fell in our yard and i rolled in it


jack says in a few more weeks all of the needles will be gone and he won't sit on the swing and pick at my hair, 

i hope he is write and i hope he will still swing with me

maybe when spring comes to our house letty will spend more time outside away from her computer

my favorite time is when she sits on the swing with jack and me