Sunday, June 11, 2023

Was Recently Sentenced... hard labor on the rock see before you the results.

Extended our hardscape all the way around (mostly in front) and planted some drought resistant juniper bushes.

We did so mainly because we gave up on ever growing anything that resembles green grass there.

Very sandy soil, and with the summer drought coupled with the Attack of the Killer Moles...

approach to my 4th hole...the green flags mark the mole traps

...we're all in on a Southwest style landscape now.

Throw in a few Saguaro Cacti...

...and voila!  um, I mean listo!  We're there.

Just passed the 79th anniversary of D-Day:


In my last Twins Report I mentioned both of the boys were dealing with ROP (retinopathy of prematurity), an eye affliction that can be serious.

Well, for one of them it led to eye surgery, which can mean some permanent loss of eyesight.

You can imagine the stress of this situation for the parents, and I tried to console my co-worker.

"This is very tough," I said, "but remember: champions are rarely chosen from the ranks of the unscarred.  You're going to be stronger for having endured this."

His telling reply?

"I never wanted to be this strong!"

We can all relate, can't we?

If you're married with kids, you're just trying to hold it all together...go to work, pay the bills, love your wife, raise your children.

You're not trying to be a hero; you just want everyone to be healthy and happy as you watch them grow up.

You know there will be tough times, but as much as possible you'd like to enjoy the years while they're still in your care...go to little league games or dance recitals, play catch in the backyard, teach them to ride a bike, read them bedtime stories, hug them when they're sad, laugh at the funny things they do and say.

No one willingly signs up for the kind of ordeal my co-worker and his wife are enduring, but in God's sometimes confusing plan, there it is.

It's too early, post-surgery, to know the extent of this issue, but the stress for both baby and parents is intense.

If you're standing on praying ground, please take a moment right now and ask for God's blessing on this situation...for healing, as well as for comfort.

In lighter fare...

...I and the tools of my ignorance...

...ventured forth in search of the answer to my "Bobby Jones or Ironman?" conundrum.

Putting it another way, do I keep my brassie, or use it for firewood and stick to my irons?

The answer is a definite "meh".

After puzzling over why I can hit my driving iron straighter and longer than my brassie, I came up with the brilliant idea of creating a "hickory hybrid":

I cut my brassie down from from 42" to 40", the same length as my driving iron, and it did help.

That, along with slight grip / ball placement adjustments, straightened out my least when I followed my "relaxed swing, lead with your hips, see the ball" mantra.

Distance improved as well, from 120 up to 155 yards, which for a gutty is not bad.

So my "hickory hybrid" brassie retains its place in my bag.

For now.

Does this mean I've finally ascended from the ranks of dufferdom to the glorious realm of competence?


Last outing I managed to par a couple and bogey a couple...

...but what happened on the remaining holes was an exercise in bizarre physics and higher mathematics that shouldn't be discussed in polite company.

We soldier on.

And now for a little bit o' this & that...

Mr. B caught in the act in our hardscape

"Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a fury like a woman scorn'd."

- The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve

this baby blue jay perched on the metal artwork in our courtyard for awhile before flying away on wobbly wings

started a recent round on my backyard golf course with a hole in one.  if I can just do that IRL...

...but it won't be on the first hole of the course I'm playing now; that's a 400 yard par 4.

beautiful blend of moon and dock lights at Larry's cottage

moonlight over our pool

gorgeous white peonies by our back patio

Already approaching mid-June, folks...summer is in full swing now and racing past our outstretched arms.

Grab it before it slips away!  Seize each moment and make it memorable.

Back Yard
by Carl Sandburg

Shine on, O moon of summer.

Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under your rain tonight.

An Italian boy is sending songs to you tonight from an accordion.

A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month; tonight they are throwing you kisses.

An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a cherry tree in his back yard.

The clocks say I must go - I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking white thoughts you rain down.

Shine on, O moon,
Shake out more and more silver changes.

later, mcm fans...

* Crass Commercialism Corner *

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