Perhaps My Last Golf Tournament... So I'm Going To Have Fun!

This coming weekend we're participating in the same golf tournament we've played in for the last five years (except last year when I was just out of the hospital from having bacterial meningitis). It's always held at a golf course close to Abilene, so it's only a 2 hour drive.

I'm still trying to get myself back to normal physically, so this tournament is going to be a major challenge for me. I've only played a handful of times in the last year but that was due more to bad weather than my physical condition, although I'm still incredibly weak. We went out to the club to hit balls last week and I was sore for the following 4 days. Gah.

I'm tired of being weak and exhausted all the time but because of my blasted inflamed ankle, I am extremely limited as to what and how much I can do physically. So, I've been doing what exercises I can from the comfort of my desk chair. Mostly upper body exercises and leg lifts, which will never get me back to where I was once upon a time, but will hopefully get me to where I can eventually up my routine.

At first, we weren't even going to play in the tournament this year because we felt that it wouldn't be fair to whoever my partner might be. However, after speaking with the organizers of the tourney, we were encouraged to still come play. My high handicap appears quite enticing to the guys who are big hitters and my putting continues to be something short of miraculous. Since the tournament is a *shamble* this works quite well for me since I just don't have the strength to hit amazing tee shots. Well, I've never hit amazing tee shots, to tell the truth, but because of my handicap no one seems to hold it against me. That handicap actually makes me the popular girl for tournaments.

So, I am going into this tourney with the belief that I can still play golf because I'm pretty good at believing my own lies at times. Who knows? Perhaps I'll pull off another golf miracle and win something. It has happened before. Still, I'd appreciate as many good thoughts as people are willing to send my way. I think I'm gonna need it....

Golf & Likker In Triple Digit Heat Can Most Often Bite You On The Derriere In More Ways Than One....

Mr. Snooty and I just returned from a weekend golf tournament (with our "Desert Duffers" group of golfing pals) up around 30 minutes past Abilene, which for most of us, is approximately a thrilling 2-1/2 hours drive (Seriously, I'm kidding. It's ugly as all get-out). It's as dry as a prehistoric bone and flat as a pancake with the only signs of green being the Mesquite bushes, which all seem to suck whatever water and life there may be, until it's gone. Much like nasty cockroaches, Mesquite will most likely survive nuclear war. They often have roots that extend to well over 20-30 miles. I kid you not. It's a greedy weed of a plant (tree), but it really makes some incredibly fabulous wood furniture, counter-tops, and more, once it's been harvested. Luckily, IT ISN'T ON ANY ENDANGERED BOTANICALS LIST. And, I can guarantee that it never will be. Unfortunately, it makes for a lousy shrub unless you embrace the whole Xeriscape concept of landscaping, which many people do in this arid, dry climate.


So, we made our way up to Baird/Clyde, Texas for our annual (and most favorite) golf tourney with our crrrrraaaaazy *Dessert Duffer* buddies. It's a *couples only* tournament, although no one plays with their spouse or *significant other*. The format is always a Shamble, everyone gets one mulligan for each of the two days (if you're sober enough to remember you have one) and no one has to hit out of a sand trap, which all makes for a tremendously fun *tourney with friends*. It's so crazy that one never knows what the final outcome might be until it's all been said and done.


Okay, so the first night they drew everyone's pairs for Saturday and I drew a *YOUNG GUN* who was joining our tournament for the first time. His name is Kyle and I think he was like in his late 30's, but then anyone under 50 looks like a baby to me, right? Anyway, this kid could blister (as in: almost stripping the outer layer off) the ball and since the only shot we shared was the tee shot, I was in 7th Heaven, although I did have to bail him out with my drive a few times. I actually shot a 40 on the front nine.



Then we hit the back nine and we each began to fall apart like a House of Cards. It was so ugly that I would have cried had I not been having so much fun with my pard (or had we not each gotten so inebriated). Kyle and I kept getting the hurt-your-tummy-giggles, to the point that all we had to do was hear the other make a muffled giggle sound and it would start all over again. Honestly, you would have thought we were a couple of 12 year old knuckleheads the way we'd just start howling with laughter over.... like... nothing. Except, perhaps, when I accidentally let a toot escape me, thinking no one had heard. I forgot he wasn't old and deaf like us. He teased me unmercifully about it for the rest of the night, which would once again force us into hysterics and tears of laughter.




So, he thought I was truly awesome until we both got entirely too greased and experienced a complete and total *GOLF MELTDOWN*. Trust me when I say that it was UGLY. I ended up shooting a 52 on the back. By golly, I came through like the true hack that I am. Wah! Wah! Wah! I got over it far more quickly than I'd ever have imagined, which made me realize there are even more perks to aging than I'd previously imagined.




Sadly, we both completely choked ourselves to death on the back nine holes. Thank goodness Kyle has such a goofy sense of humor (like mine), otherwise he probably would have put me at the very top of his Sh*t List. Permanently. When it was all said and done, he was still speaking to me, so I guess there were no truly hard feelings.


That night, there were apparently some very drunk puppies in our group, as I saw this faux pas on my way to get ice on Sunday morning-------->


Then today(Sunday), I had the sheer luck to draw one of my good friend's hubby. They are actually the hosts of this tournament every year and they always manage to make it waaaay too much fun for all of us, God Love 'Em. Since Mr. Snoots and I were were the very first to cut and run when everyone finished playing their rounds, we still didn't know how it all ended up until today. Amazingly, my partner and I won 3rd place on the second day, winning a big $63.00 dollars a piece. Color me happy!


I had been so confident that neither Mr. Snooty or I won anything this year, in spite of the major expertise of our oh-so-capable partners. Last year, I could not miss a putt and was able to pull off 1st Place the first day and 2nd Place the second day. This year, most unfortunately, I could barely sink a putt, but then I never do well when someone tries to school me in putting but at least I didn't allow it to put me in a *mood* this year (which is another of the few perks to my aging process.... I don't throw near as many infantile tantrums on the golf course as I did during my impetuous youth). But really, I have no idea why I listen to anyone. I'm a putting genius, I swear. Until. Someone. Decides. To. Show. Me. Where. To. Putt. My. Ball. Oddly, I become a blubbering mess and can't sink a putt, which all makes me want to wail like a newborn baby (never attractive at any age). 


WHY CAN'T MEN JUST KEEP THEIR GOLF TIPS AMONG THEMSELVES AND LEAVE US LADIES ALONE? You know. Like unless we actually request they share their immense knowledge of the game with us (since they're all obviously on the Pro Tour, right?). Does anyone have an answer? Uh-Huh. I'm pretty convinced we'd all give the same answer, unless you're married to a freaking saint.


I awakened at the azz crack of dawn to some strange noises outside. When I opened the door, this is what I saw. Llamas. Very. Loud. Llamas....

Umm... Allow Me To Correct That Statement

Since we were the first couple to leave the golf course and head home, we missed the final announcement of who won 1st, 2nd and 3rd places for the second day of play. Mr. Snoots wanted to get home and watch the final round of PGA golf on TV, so we hit the road as soon as we were done with our rounds.


As it turned out, my partner and I actually won Second Place, which was still good for me. We had such a wonderful time. As a matter of fact, Mr. Snoots even won some money this year. He had the youngest woman (who is on a collegiate golf team) as his partner on Saturday, which made him yet another happy camper. They won 3rd place on Saturday, which was an outstanding treat!



As hot and sunny as the day had been, we ran into a dark gray Wall of Thunderstorms on our 3 hour drive home. It was so bad I was more than tempted to pull over, especially after seeing a semi-truck (Fed-Ex) had jack-knifed in the center median of I-20, surrounded by rescue teams and ambulances. I didn't dare steal a look as we passed.



It has been raining ever since we arrived home....
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A neighbor tells me he saw Fernando & Felicia Fox in his front yard over the weekend, which means at least they are still in the hood. Animals must really have keen instincts because she chose the right year to not be in our garden. Apparently, it rained all weekend and has been raining ever since, so we're once again experiencing flooding around the property.


The next event coming up is The Firecracker golf tournament at our golf club this weekend. It's a 3 day tourney with a different format for each day. The first 2 days are a Scramble and then a Shamble and the last day you're on your own. Since you have a choice, I'm just playing the first 2 days. I'm still aching from last weekend's tournament in Baird, Texas....

Exhausted & Sunburned, I Emerged A Winner....

What a weekend for a golf tournament! With temperatures being predicted up around 100 degrees Fahrenheit, we knew it was going to be a real scorcher on the golf course, so we went prepared to do battle against heat and humidity. You can probably guess who won that battle and it wasn't me. However, since I am at long last beyond the hot flashes of Menopause, it isn't as unbearable as it once was. Thank. Heaven.


Last weekend my *golden putter* died and being worried what a new putter would do to my short game, I scrounged around until I located my old, beat-up putter that had formerly been my *golden putter*. I was just relieved I had not thrown it into the trash during a fit of golf course rage, which of course, I've never had. (Ahem!)  Since we were playing a shamble, my partner would be depending on me to take care of chips and putts.






On Friday night, as everyone was arriving and getting settled in, we were blessed with a huge thunderstorm that took temperatures lower than predicted. When we teed off early Saturday morning, the sky was as blue and clear as it gets, with barely a cloud in sight. Teams and partners were drawn the night before and I had one of the top players as my partner, an Irishman from Boston, who came to Texas to work in the oil business. He's also one of the top players at our golf club, although he and I had never been paired before. I admit being a little beyond nervous but I also knew that my short game is on fire at the moment, which is where I come in handy as a partner. Well, I suppose my high handicap was also a major factor. I received pops on every hole, allowing me us to Birdie the first two holes.


When scores were at last tallied (with handicaps figured in) I shot a sweet 82.


I tell you, I was sinking putts left and right. Really. Long. Putts. It was the most fun I've ever had during tournament play and I wasn't even obsessed concerned with winning. Once the first day of golf was finished, we all headed back to the hotel motel for showers and naps (yes, we're all wimps) and finally congregated outside once the sun had gone down far enough to give us shade. It was then that I was told that I had gotten First Place with my partner Dick. We may or may not have had several celebratory drinks but we were definitely all feeling good. After an awesome day of golf, copious amounts a fair amount of liquor being consumed, being in the company of good friends and an evening of fabulous food, everyone was in bed by Midnight. We are clearly not the party animals we once were.

Sunday morning we all rose, packed everything up, and headed to the golf course. I was paired with the hubby of one of my closest friends, whose name is Steve. He is also an amazing golfer and I felt lucky to be paired with him. I continued to drop putts in the hole and it was beginning to make me light-headed. It's like walking around on Cloud Nine. So, we became a tag team of sorts. He set up the shots and I knocked them down. We won First Place on Sunday too, which was nothing short of complete and total amazement for me. All totaled, I won over $100.00. Yay me!


On Sunday I shot an 85! Shhhh! Don't tell anyone but I'm almost beginning to feel like A Real Golfer in spite of my high handicap, even though I was highly dependent upon my partner's tee shots. I can dream, can't I?

Woo Hoo! It's Time For Our Annual Desert Duffers Golf Tournament....

As we do every year, we'll be leaving Friday morning for a little known town just the other side Abilene, that has the most fabulous golf course. I used to always see it when I drove to Dallas with the kids and thought it would be fun to play there. Then, several years ago some golf friends decided we needed to have a tournament there, and I'm so glad they did!

Now, admittedly, there is no nice place to stay, but wherever we stay, we usually have the entire place booked with our group, for the weekend. It's only a room with air conditioning and modest amenities (meaning they provide bars of soap). Okay, wait. It has air-conditioning, which I consider to be the most important of all amenities in our little corner of the world. The weekend is spent playing golf & hanging out at the Motel, and enjoying the company of good friends. We all bring our own folding chairs, citronella candles, food, etc. There will be a total of 16 couples this year which should be a blast!

On the first night, we all drive to a neighboring town for dinner at a truly amazing restaurant, located in The Middle Of Nowhere, where they serve the absolute best flat iron steaks I've ever had the pleasure to devour. Although their sides, bread, and dessert offerings are nothing special, their flat iron steak is incredibly good and I look forward to it every year.


On Saturday morning the first foursome tees off at 8:00 AM and our entire group is usually finished with 18 holes by Noon-ish. Only couples are allowed (whether married or not) in The Desert Duffers and no one is allowed to play with their own spouse/significant other. It's a scramble format (my fave), if you land in a sand trap you get to pull your ball out and play from behind the sand trap (major plus), a club length for bad lies, and *skins* on every hole.


Afterward, we all head back to the hotel for naps. Then, on Saturday night, we have a huge shrimp boil with charcoal grilled steaks. It is always a truly delectible feast and more food than anyone should be allowed to have. The next day, we get up and do the 8:00 AM tee times again and we're done by Noon-ish. The money prizes are handed out afterward at the golf course and then everyone splits for home.
 

It's always a good time with good friends and lots of good BS, so I am thrilled with anticipation. I only have one little problem. My longtime favorite putter *bit the dust* during play last weekend. Putting is my *thing* and my short game is strong, so I'm worried about having to play with a new putter. I have to go find one today, if that's possible.


Anyhoo, it promises to be an exciting weekend and this year I'm going to win something. Really. I am! Or not. There are always pranks being played and just a general mayhem with this group of rowdy golfing friends. Luckily, someone always shows their *arse* side during tournament play. I just hope it won't be me this year....


Gotta love 'em!

This Always Seems To Happen.... AND A Giveaway From "Etiquette With Miss Janice"

Last Thursday I played in my first Club Scramble of the year. When we were broken into teams I ended up with 4 men I had never before met. Now, I love playing golf with men, especially in the scrambles. However, the entire group I was playing with are new members and very young (I'd guess late 20's to early 30's). Since they had never met me, they didn't know what an awesome putter I am. Therefore, once play began, they felt it necessary to tell me precisely where to putt the ball. When anyone does that, my entire game falls apart. I abhor being told what to do, much less when I'm preparing to make a putt that I can sink without anyone's help. It's an entirely different deal if I ask, which I didn't. Apparently, I must come off to them as some sort of idiot who doesn't know the game of golf, but I do. Really. I do.


What resulted was, I could not hit a tee shot to save my life but I don't usually worry about that in the Scrambles because the A and B players can almost reach the green on their tee shots. They always seem to hit the ball really far but you never know where they will end up. Luckily, my short game is my saving grace. I can pitch, chip and putt with the best of them, but the conditions have to be just right. In other words, I do not need someone I don't even know, instructing me during game play!


We ended up with two Birdies and the rest being Eagles and one Par. I sank the two Birdie putts but once they started trying to tell me where to hit the ball, I could no longer sink a putt. Grrrrr! I really prefer playing with *The Old Guard*; the older men at the club. They seem to know better than to try and tell a woman where to putt her balls and they are all very gentlemanly. The younger men... not so much. Bless their hearts, they do have a lot to learn.


So, tonight is another Scramble at the club and I fully intend to go. And, if anyone tries to tell me where to putt I'm just going to say, "Ummm... Excuse me, but I've got this!" I'm just praying I get on a more genteel team tonight. Or perhaps I'll get on a team with someone I actually know. The reason I even started doing the Scrambles is so that I could get over my fear of playing with strangers. I'm not so sure that's going too well...


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AND, Miss Janice from the blog "Etiquette With Miss Janice" is celebrating National Tea Month over at her blog and she is having a giveaway for a wonderful Iced Tea Set, so please go over and sign up. Miss Janice is all things Southern and genteel and she really knows how to set a divine table.

Janice also introduced me to a new product I'd never before heard of. It's called Comeback Sauce and sounds like something I could overdose on. Seriously. Here in Texas we like to top our saltines with good old Southern Chow-Chow or my Balsamic Vinegar and Habanero Tomato Chow-Chow, but I'm always open to change. I'm sure I can come up with at least a dozen uses for the Comeback Sauce. At any rate, give Janice's blog a *look see* and sign up for her giveaway. You might even win! 

Well, Color Me Happy! My Team Somehow Pulled Off First Place...

This morning amidst a steady, light rain, my team and I teed off at 9:15 AM with great trepidation. There was loud thunder off to the left and off to the right, but we never saw any lightning, so play was never interrupted. I thought that we'd surely hear the sirens from the clubhouse, but they never sounded. We played on, thinking that we were going to have the worst score of all the teams because we were all playing horribly. The air was so heavy you could have cut it with a knife and the balls weren't going as far as they should have. I found myself having to *club up* on nearly every shot and every shot seemed to play out like a game of craps.

Today was another *shamble* with two *net balls* instead of only one, like we had yesterday. The teams were different too, but once again, I made out like a bandit and scored an awesome team of players. Today I only had one Eagle, 2 Birdies and 3 Pars. Boo Hoo! (whatever!) It was great and I enjoyed the entire tournament thoroughly.

However, today, with the all the wet weather, I had to dress for the rain and knew my hair would get soaked, which makes me resemble a wet rat. It's not pretty, but I didn't care. I was there to play real golf today, with real diehard players and it was such a great feeling being a winner for once. I could seriously get used to this.

I also had an epiphany. I like playing with everyone but my own Mr. Snoots. I know. It sounds really mean, doesn't it? But honestly, the man cannot quit telling me what I'm doing wrong the entire time we play together. Everyone else praises me for every shot and every putt, good or bad, which somehow makes me (or allows me) to play better. If Mr. Snoots could just figure this out we'd be great together. But, alas, I fear he cannot and will not ever be able to be different. This will certainly limit our time playing golf together.

The only thing that really ruffled my feathers a bit today, was the two men on our team insisted on telling me precisely where to putt my ball. You know. Like I didn't have the sense to do it on my own. Yesterday, I sank 16 of 18 putts. Today, I sank 5 putts out of 18. Hmmmmm… There's your sign, huh?

When someone insists on telling you where to putt, I think they have no idea how they are undermining your play, but they are. Of course, they think they are being oh-so-helpful, but it's almost insulting when (without invitation) they say, "Firm stroke right here to this spot." For me, it's like the freaking *kiss of death* and then I usually rocket launch my 3 foot putt to destinations unknown. Thanks a lot guys, but I think I can handle this all on my own, unless you'd like for me to line YOUR putts up for you....

Desert Duffers Golf Tournament Weekend And Fox Pictures

Be sure to click on the pictures for a full size view.

Felicia stopped to pose for me one evening, on the fence to the garden.

We are leaving today to go play in a two-day golf tournament outside of Dallas with our large golf group called Desert Duffers, so I thought I'd leave you with the most recent pictures of our little fox family.

And I know you'll all want to tune in on Monday to find out about whatever misadventures I've found myself in during this tournament. As always, it should be interesting to see if I show my ass again. It's been hellishly hot and we all know what happens to me in the heat, when I'm drinking and playing golf.... Thank goodness we're playing with friends that are used to my antics. Truth be told, I think they all like it when I misbehave and they tend to urge me on. However, Mr. Snooty doesn't like it, but he should really be used to me by now.

Anyway, this is the first of three tournaments we have with this group every year, so if I'm not naughty this time, I'm sure I will be the next time.

Also, several of the hubbys play guitar, so we usually sit around at night, singing and listening to some really amazing guitarists. Hell, we might even sing a round of Cumbaya (Koom-By-Ya).

Most of the time, Felicia seems to be resting while the pups are either asleep or off hunting with their Dad.
Her favorite new place is up on the cinderblock fence, amongst the Trumpet Vine.

The pups are really growing and seem to be getting some wise advice from Mr. Owl.

The Nose Knows... How To Improve Your Mental Golf Game

More than a month ago I was reading my friend Heather's blog (Real Women Golf) and she had a new *toy* that she claimed was helping her golf game. Called *Golf Scents*, this new idea was brought about by a golfer and endorsed by a renowned golf psychologist with the idea that certain scents can change our mental game as well as our physical golf game, based on memory and smells being linked to our actions and reactions, during play.

Since I'm always the first one to jump on anything that promises to improve my golf game, I was all over it. Now that I've had a chance to use it for a reasonable amount of time, I see major improvements in my golf game. Mainly, I'm hitting better & longer tee shots and my putts all seem to be drifting over the lip of the cup, disappearing into the hole. The last four times I've played, my score has been right at and around 100, which is an improvement of around 5 to 10 strokes, as well as a new consistency I've not experienced before.

I am going to buy one of these for each of my golfing pals, to give them for their birthdays, although not until after it has majorly improved my own game. Hehehe...

Of course, you must follow their explicit instructions on how to use the little olfactory bulb of wonder, but I am seeing major improvements here, which just confirms what I've thought all along. Golf is 40% physical and 60% mental. Now, through associative learning and conditioned response, scents become a part of your memory.

I have found that it is particularly helpful when playing golf with Mr. Snoots. Golf Scents helps me to remember how well I play when playing with *the girls*. It also enables me to ignore all of his comments like "You just looked up, is all." or "You just hit that too hard for a putt." or "Can't you watch where your ball goes?" or "Maybe you need another lesson." or my most favorite "You just need to concentrate more." For that alone, this little tool is worth its weight in gold.

Apparently, these guys are onto something here. Mind over matter, baby!

Also, I'm sure the new golf shoes I've ordered, because I saw them over at Tales of a Golf Gal, will help as well. They are FootJoys LoPro Collection. I still hold firmly to the belief that if you look good and feel good you're going to play a better game. Right? Well, perhaps in just theory, but mind over matter again. The new shoes should be here any day now, so I'm excited!

Last year, I was reading Patricia Hannigan's blog Golf Girl's Diary and she turned me on to another new gadget, which has helped my game tremendously. The Thumb Caddy, which is a tool that teaches you where to properly grip on your club. Once you get used to it, the grip will just become a natural part of your game.

The other pictures are just some shots taken while golfing over the last few months. It seems like we're always waiting on a group of guys who won't let us play through, so that affords me ample time to take pictures of the golf course wildlife.

This last picture is where my tee shot ended up on our #10 hole. Ummm... Could I get a ruling here please? You can click on the picture to get a better idea of my frustration... Okay, this wasn't one of my better tee shots.

The Calm Before The Storm...

It is predicted to get up around 72 degrees here today, so where do you think I'm headed? Yes, the golf course, of course! After today we're supposed to be getting another cold front, so this is my only chance to get out and catch some rays of sunshine and see if I can still knock around the ridiculously small ball with a long, skinny club. Really, how (or even why) did someone ever come up with such a retarded game of sport? Everything about this game makes me feel awkward and somewhat inadequate, but still I persevere.

Each time I play a game of golf I'm faced with the possibility of having a great round or a lousy round, with the latter being the more prevalent in my world. No telling what surprises today may hold for me, but it's always good to get out in the fresh air. My mantra is: Any bad day on the golf course is still better than a good day at the office. Forget the fact I don't work in an office. It's still a good mantra, right?

So, Bloggy Friends, I must apologize for not using today to catch up on everyone's blogs. Cold weather will return soon enough and I'll be hunched over my computer, insatiably reading your blogs once again. I've been stuck in the house for what seems like weeks, looking after Snooty Daughter and I need to get out for a while. She had more doctor appointments and blood tests yesterday, and will see yet another doctor today. All of her close friends have left except for one. Luckily, her one friend is a guy and she is going out with him on New Year's Eve. His Dad is throwing a huge party at the country club, so she's going with him.

Since she didn't bring any cocktail dresses or heels with her, we spent the remainder of the afternoon yesterday, shopping. We finally found her an adorable black cocktail dress and the cutest red flats ever. So, she's set to go.

Random question: What in the Hell made me think I looked cute in this golf outfit? I haven't got a clue. It just makes me look fat. Ugh!

Anyway, after today I will be back to my regularly scheduled whinings and musings, I promise! It's the calm before the storm and I need to grab what I can, while I can.

On The Trail of a Fox....

I played golf today and it was the most beautiful day that I could have ever hoped for. Rain was in the forecast and there was no shortage of clouds, but it was so perfect! I said "Pish Posh" to the widiots (weather idiots) and I'm so pleased that I did. No, it wasn't because I played all that great. It was because the other golf girls & I went to another golf club today because there was a one day tournament going on at our club. The club we went to today is public and is called Nueva Vista. It's an easy course, most of the time. Very women friendly as far as the placement of the ladies' tees, which is always a perk. There is always an abundance of wildflowers and wildlife while playing at Nueva Vista.



Today, we saw a huge number of enormous jackrabbits with ears as long as their bodies. I swear. They look pretty lean but those ears make them look downright comical along with their big ole feet & skinny legs. They were chasing each other, which was amusing, but for all I know, it was their mating dance. I'm rather dense that way.










We also saw many birds that we don't normally see at our club on the total opposite side of town. We decided that it must be because of the Mississippi Kites who have taken up residence at our club. Besides golfers having to avoid the vicinity of their nests (during nesting season) so as to not get dive-bombed by them, we decided that they must also chase off certain types of other feathered friends. So, it was rather interesting seeing those others today.


In the end, I shot 107, which wasn't worthy of anything so grand as a toast, but I was okay with it. I damn sure didn't plunk 23 consecutive shots into the water, so I was happy. I shot 58 on the front (which was fairly inept), but then I shot a 49 on the back, so I know I could have done better. Maybe next time.



Anyway, I didn't get home until after 6:00 PM and when I walked through the front door Mr. Snooty announced he was making dinner tonight and I threw my arms around him and kissed him for being one of the greatest hubbys around. I wasn't really worn out, I just didn't want to have to fix dinner, so that was very happy news. One deserves praise for such outstanding behavior, don't you agree?


This is my grouping of Oleanders in the backyard. I didn't plant them until the children were grown because they are poisonous. Animals seem to just know. Children, it seems, do not.







The next thing I knew, Mr. Snooty went outside for something, then quickly opened the door & motioned me to come look. I knew it would be the fox. I had just gotten home & hadn't yet really unpacked from the day's game. I raced back to the front hall, grabbed my digital camera & dashed back to the rear door. MR. S was just saying I was going to miss it, while I'm fumbling & bumbling & trying to get my camera on and dialed to the correct setting (which is still a challenge). I reached the bottom of our back stoop just in time to see her gracefully glide the fenceline behind the Eleagnus bushes. She stopped briefly and looked me directly in the eye with absolutely no malice whatsoever, just her sweet, bright eyes & grin. She is a beauty, that Felicia.

Snooty Cat Trouble never misses an opportunity to roll in the dirt. Especially the day after the maid comes. Bitch.

















And Trouble (AKA Stubbie Troubie) is a total shameless slut when it comes to begging for belly rubs. Shameless, I tell you! Just looking at her makes me want to sneeze 9 times in a row.







Needless to say, Felicia ever so casually slipped between the missing board in our fence and disappeared between the wood fence and the original cinderblock fence. We believe that there is an opening somewhere in the cinderblock fence and that within the cinderblocks she has an entire network of foxholes. You know, the Fox Underground Network. I really do think she knows she's safe here. Her haven. I can't imagine evicting her & the fam now. How cruel would that be? They've been here almost as long as we have.


As cagey as sweet Felicia the Fox is, I will not rest until I get my picture. This is turning into a mission, really. It's my Summer Mission 2008 to get a really great shot of Felicia and/or the babies.

Oh look! There's that cat again....

Holes In The Desert... Snooty Style

Nooooo... I'm not talking about the kind of holes punched in the desert outside Las Vegas by the likes of Bugsy Seigel and Meyer Lansky. I'm talking about holes in the desert that are ever changing and elusive. I'm speaking of the pesky little holes with a staked flag that your ball is supposed to fall into with that lovely little rolling clink sound.


Yes, Genius, I'm talking about golf. I love golf. I hate golf. I love golf. I hate golf. I love golf. I hate golf. Oh, make me stop Mr. Wizard! I've never in my life had such a love/hate relationship with a sport, for crying out loud. This is the most degrading, rewarding, frustrating, blissful, tortuous, awe inspiring sport I've ever had the misfortune to take part in. So, why do I play, you ask?

I play golf because I love being outdoors and doing something. Anything. As long as I'm outside. Well, most of the time. Living in West Texas presents challenging weather & terrain for those who seek physical exercise outside of the Gym. Because of the lack of things I grew up liking to do, I have been doomed to play a game that I will never master.


This coming Thursday we leave for San Saba for the first of our yearly Desert Duffers Golf Tournaments. We'll have another one in July up by Dallas and yet another in October down by Kerrville.

We never win diddly squat at these tournaments. Because Mr. Snooty & I suck at golf, basically. It also has a lot to do with the format. Which is not advantageous to those who play golf like a couple of major league hackers. We do rather nicely at scrambles, but suck at all others. However, I strongly feel that there should always be losers. You know, to make the winners feel even better. The same winners that seem to be right up there in the winner's circle year after year. I'm just saying...


So, why is it that we go to this tournament? Is it the mosquitoes the size of small dogs? Is it the fact that there are no nice places to stay and no restaurants? Is it the fact that we somehow enjoy being the big LOSERS? Is it that we enjoy driving 5 hours to get there & 5 hours to get back? Is it the 90+ degree weather with a 100+ plus humidity level? Oh, contraire!


We go for the sheer joy of being with friends (even if they kick our collective booties), being outdoors, and enjoying life itself. At our age, it really doesn't get much better than that (after being with the family, of course). I choose to overlook the meaningless facts that I:


1. Still occasionally whiff the ball.


2. Have not yet broken 100.


3. Often get angry & hit up to 11 balls in order to at last get a decent tee shot. (just call me tin-cup)


4. Cuss like I have Tourrette's Syndrome.


5. Am known to occasionally *toss* a club.


6. Turn beet red in the face of heat and sweat worse than any pig I've ever laid witness to.


Yup, that ought to hook a few newcomers, lol. It's a constant struggle trying to figure out why the heck I keep playing this game. So, let's examine some of the alternatives, shall we?


Tennis: I save my knees for the slopes. Never was any good at it anyway.


Running: Nearly killed me by stroke, in the heat. No thanks.


Swim: We don't have a pool and I "don't do" public pools. Period.


Biking: Tried it for 6 months. It nearly killed me by heatstroke.


Hiking: What good would it do to hike on flat land? Exactly. None.


Spa: Only if they have machines that move body parts for you. Period.


So, that pretty well covers the choices I have out here in the desert. I play golf because Mr. Snooty likes to play and because I have to do something besides sit around blogging all day.


This coming Thursday we will roll into San Saba and play one practice round with our best buddies. The next day, we'll start the tournament which begins with tee times at 1:00 p.m. You know, the coolest part of the day. The same on Saturday. The temperatures are supposed to be in the high 90's, with high humidity, and a heat index in the 100's. Do I sound excited yet? So, if I survive this tournament again, I'll be back to tell about the agony of defeat. Or else you'll never hear from me again. Time will tell, Dear Readers. Prayers and good vibes welcome on all levels.


In preparation for playing golf in the heat, I've come to realize that I need more items to insure my comfort than the average lady golfer. I have a complete menagerie of items designed to keep me cool, none of which work exactly like air-conditioning, but are absolute necessities if I plan to survive. I'm also always on the prowl for more miraculous items.


This is a very important item for my survival. You fill it up with water, insert batteries and you get a lovely wet breeze when you need it.








My Redneck Air Conditioner always comes in handy.
















Then, there's my array of golf visors. I wouldn't dream of leaving home without a choice.

I wouldn't even be able to play without this baby. It really put out a powerful breeze and can even be worn around the neck.

Heaven forbid I should ever leave without my trusty 95% Deets. Hello other health problems. I'll do almost anything to keep from getting bitten.

Although I normally play in regular golf shoes, the heat forces me to wear these lovely sandals, which I hate because they are UGLY, but wear anyway. They are just plain unattractive, but they do keep my feet cooler.

I did get to play one day last week and I made it on the green in regulation on a five par. My friends were so excited they had to take a picture of me. I am so HOT! Not. My ball had just barely squeaked onto the green. Wonders never cease.

So, I'm off to go practice for a couple of hours in preparation for this travesty of golf that we call a tournament. I'm doing this every day until we leave. Not that it will help.

There is a prize, however, for DAL (meaning Dead Azz Last). Maybe we'll get it this year.