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....

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!