Today at 5:25 pm...

 ...I sank this putt...for a bogey as the first official score ever registered on the par 4 first hole of the Ryan P. Hare Memorial Hickory / Wiffle Golf Course.

Should have been a par, but after a decent tee shot with my play club, I left my niblick just a little short of the green, so had to chip on in 3.

Missed the 8 footer for the leave you see above, then sank that for a bogey.

Here's the view from the tee:

Did you spot the flag?

Slight dogleg right, about 45 yards away.

To be honest I'm not satisfied with the feel of the green.  I hand compacted the crushed limestone layer many times then spread 9 bags of sand over that to fill in the cracks.

After that I wet it and hand compacted the sand layer several times.

Seemed ok when I put down the turf but now you can still feel the crushed limestone underfoot when you’re standing on the green.

At some future date I’ll probably take up the turf and put more sand down but don’t want to overdo it or it will shift under your feet when you stand on it.

Gotta think about it, but not too bad for a first effort...I'll give it a C+, maybe a B- if grading on the curve.

Three more chances to get it right this summer.

In the classic car department...

...I no longer own one.

Yep, Mr. T finally sold this past week, the proceeds of which to be used in the "martinis and bikinis" fund (read: in ground pool).

Had him for 6 years and truly enjoyed driving him.

End of an era.

We have a number of stray / neighborhood cats who mosey on over for a bite to eat now and then, but one of the strays recently managed to worm his way inside...

...meet Buddy the Cat, currently making himself at home on my side of the bed.

He'd been hanging around for a couple of months, out in the woods, seeking shelter under the She-shed at night, and then one day I noticed he was inside.

I questioned the Lady of the Manor closely as to exactly what her intentions were re: this wayward beast, to which she replied (and I'm quoting here for accuracy):

"Oh, never mind..."

Now my fears have been realized.

I've often said Karen's cats live and prosper under the protective umbrella of her love, and never has that been truer than with this latest addition.

Heavy sigh...

On the home stretch now with Born Out Of Due Time...

...have my ending - well, mostly - and have written it in the neural network that passes for my brain...now just have to get it down on (digital) paper.

Shooting for next weekend, then proofreading / tweaking begins.

Hoping to publish by June.

Time for a stroll through the parting shots gallery...

Uncle Ryan with 3 of #1 son's kids, probably 15 years ago

I just like this art deco bar

Buddy Kitten giving me the stink eye

Lilacs in bloom

this is the trunk of the big green spider tree that was blocking our wall until I cut the top off...I wanted to cut the trunk down, but Karen said "Wait 'til spring...if it blooms, we'll keep it..."

...wouldn't you know it...the gnarly bugger bloomed...oh well, it does make a good Halloween Tree

Saw the pretender to the throne mumbling to himself on TV the other day, and it brought this Scripture to mind:

later, mcm fans...

A Sad Delivery...

 ...yet a joyful reminder...of my son Ryan's current home in heaven.

His ashes arrived today in a very elegant urn, and once again I shed some tears for a life ended too soon.

It wasn't the driver's fault, but apparently there was some kind of issue with finalizing the delivery.

While she was checking details on her computer I mentioned the box she had contained the ashes of my 2nd son's cremated remains.

Without looking up from her computer she mumbled distractedly, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that..."

Her comment - intended to be kind no doubt - had all the sincerity of a milliner's compliment on how fabulous that $200 chapeau she's trying to sell you looks atop your bony noggin.

It reminded me of this stark reality:

Everyone has their issues, so you can't expect the world to be emotionally invested in yours.

Eventually she got it sorted, handed me the box, and went on with her day.

For my part, I've decided to keep Ryan's remains front and center...

...atop the focal point of the best room in the house.

It's too little too late of course, but for the time being they will serve as a reminder I need to pay less heed to the noisily urgent and more to the quietly important.

Something, regrettably, I did not do those years Ryan was daily in my care.

Some of the grandkids headed south recently...

...to warmer climes for a break from Michigan's chilly weather...

...where they enjoyed some sport fishing...

...and some pool time...

...and a whole lotta relaxing.

This is normally the part where I, as the pater familias of our wayward clan, trot out some lame stories about how tough things were when I was a lad...but I'm even less interested in doing that than you are in reading about it.

And that's saying something.

For whatever reason, I  have quite suddenly stumbled upon some creative energy...or perhaps more accurately, some creative recycling energy...

...and am in the process of turning one of my short stories into a novella.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I'm just plowing ahead - striking while the iron is still hot - in the hopes this actually leads to a decent story when all is said and done.

In any event, I am once again writing, which in my world is a good thing.

And that, dear reader, is going to have to suffice for this edition of the...

...I like that picture because I like old fashioned diners...all that shiny chrome with bright red stools and meals with names like Harry's Heartburn Heaven...

later, mcm fans...