A Hung Jury

It needs to be unanimous and it’s not.

So I’m off to do ropes and stairs in search of clarity, wisdom and understanding. But first I need to download a song.

I heard it yesterday blaring from my daughter’s bathroom as she was swaying to the music and fixing her long hair. (She asked me if she should wear it straight or curly with the dress she carefully chose for a party. The very minute I said straight it was trumped by a text from “the boyfriend” who loves it curled. Things change.)

I paused by her door, as she worked, and just listened. I listened intently to the words the minute I understood their meaning.

I’m not a country fan (at all) but I am forced to listen when she’s home. Okay, I’ll admit it grows on you if you let it and there’s no way to help but hear it through the walls. So just now, onto my iPod it went.


I have this feeling it's going to be a ice cream for lunch kind of day.

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Front Porch Looking In 

by Lonestar
(An excerpt)

The only ground I ever owned was sticking to my shoes

Now I look at my front porch and this panoramic view

I can sit and watch the fields fill up

With rays of glowing sun

Or watch the moon lay on the fences

Like that's where it was hung

My blessings are in front of me

It's not about the land

I'll never beat the view

From my front porch looking in

I see what beautiful is about

When I'm looking in

Not when I'm looking out
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We have a big front porch where we spend a lot of time. The couches go out in April and remain until November. There's a swing on either end. 

It’s a peaceful place where we talk, read, relax and observe as the world passes by our view. We sip coffee, wine, and Arnold Palmers. Friends stop by for a chat if they're walking by and see us.

It's also a place where we've had great and difficult heart-to-hearts with each other...every combination of the four of us and all together. This weekend, the four of us (plus Ellie and Addy) spent hours there in the gorgeous weather...

Discussing, pondering, listing, 

laughing, crying,

reasoning, arguing, deciding.

It’s Just “Caddy Shack” To Me

 Decisions. Decisions!

This was my fourth, and possibly last, week smacking that little white sucker all over freaking place, then back again. Plain and simple, I stink at golf. Maybe I’d be a little better if I tried harder, but I don’t believe I have the desire (or the skill?).

Let’s weigh it out, shall we?

Pros:

-       Breathtaking mornings spent outside walking hills

-       3 hours knocking around with two very close friends talking all kinds of crazy s#$t

-       Swearing slides right by

-       Bar Cheese on Ritz Crackers at the Halfway House plus hot coffee ALWAYS equals a breakfast of champions

-       Using my clubs to practice the baton twirling learned at summer camp when young

-       Working on the tan albeit causing strange lines

-       Easy to say, “Hole over! Give me a 10.”

-       Cute caddies

Cons:

-       Don’t really care for the sport

-       Friends give me sad puppy dog eyes when I say “but I just don’t wanna.”

-       Sucks to suck

-       Clothes are not attractive, AND no one looks really good in them except “Cookie” who’s a size 2 and wears short skirts (she looks good)

-       And don’t get me started on the U-G-L-Y SHOES

-       Takes up way too much time

-       Diminishes my math skills. I can subtract 5 from 9 yet “How many more holes?”

-       Makes people crabby and whine or maybe just me

-       IT IS NOT EXERCISE

-       Elicits an unfocused feeling when in reality focus is just fine

-       Not a beach but too much water and sand

-       Balls act as water seeking missiles, see above

Did I already mention I totally suck?

And if you love this sport, more power to you. I do not share your view.