Golf Fore the Good

If it had been Mardi Gras or the Macy’s parade or a home coming celebration, she would have been enthroned on a float. She would have had a crown upon her head and a banner slung diagonally across her chest proclaiming her sovereignty, and she would be graciously effecting the queen’s wave. Instead, she sat, ensconced at a luncheon table at the Ladies’ Golf Invitational. It was no less of an event to observe.

I could not help but be touched by the site of the attention heaped upon her. I was honored to merely sit and watch as my friend - an octogenarian and multi-time winner of numerous golf championships - held court that day.

I stared morosely out the kitchen window, observing the brown and shriveled tomato plants in the patio pot on my deck. In some idiosyncratic way, they reminded me of my golf game.

The plants were given to me in early July by my octogenarian golf partner. She hauled them to the course one Friday in the back seat of her car, the pot nearly bigger than she. Just as she has always tried to nurture the golfer in me, she had high hopes for me as a gardener.

Alright, alright… I admit to playing too much golf lately on my own little mini-tour to post much content. Work demands - unfortunately, a necessary evil at this time in my life - along with the pressure of an all-too-short season waning quickly, finds me scurrying off to the golf course as much as possible.

A cool little something just came into my email in-box and, since I haven’t yet developed the golf travel pages I’d like to add to this site, I thought I’d just post the link. Check this out… a golf and sightseeing trip to Dehli, India at what I consider a great package price. Of course, I’m always game to travel anywhere, and even more so if it involves golf.

How quickly the last year has passed. Now, once more over a championship weekend, we suffer again - and all too soon - the loss of a special member of our golfing community. George Medeiros, a dedicated golfer and longtime member of Dennis Pines, has passed away. He will be missed by many.

We are like family: we, the golfers who play, day after day. We are family by choice, not by chance or by blood; like a chosen partner or an adopted child, we are family by choice. Family made so by a special tie that binds, by our love for golf.

The golf season is short here in the northeast. We - those people who are very, very passionate about golf - play where ever, when ever and with whom ever.

I remember when I first met my husband; he was thrilled to meet a woman who was so into golf. Eleven years later, he may struggle to justify his initial enthusiasm. He has tolerated hundreds of loads of unfolded laundry and many evenings of reheated leftovers, and has witnessed dozens and dozens of other unfinished domestic details while I whiled away time on the golf course. Yet, I do declare: that street goes in both directions, my friend!