My parents were avid golfers and they bought me clubs and I even had lessons. I do not like golf, as the game is played – hit the ball, walk to the ball, hit it again, walk to it, hit it again . . . and on and on depending on how good you are.

I could stand for a long time at a driving range – hit, hit, hit, hit, hit. All that hitting would be called practice. I do practicing well. Years with a saxophone hanging around my neck and variations on scales would testify to it.

But to do it like golf would be like practicing a measure by playing a note, walking around and playing the second and so on, depending upon whether they are whole or half of 32nd notes. Of course, there is the possibility of a rest but the when and length are dictated.

This is a game where the fewer times you have to show skill, the better you score. I don’t have that type of an outlook. Let’s say I was somewhere on the fairway, heading for the green with an iron. Now, real golfers are like snipers. They steady themselves, they gauge, they steady, they wait for the right wind, they steady, they breathe a certain way, they steady and eventually they hit that one shot. If that shot is bad, they have to suck it up and bury their frustration and proceed to the next possible debacle.

I prefer another method; I want to approach the green with my six-gun a-shootin’ and my Winchester a-whirlin’. Yes, John Wayne style. I want to hit that green like a Marine on Iwo Jima and plant the hole flag where . . .  well, never mind, but “hole” would probably fit in the description.

Obviously, I do not have the personality for this game I do not like. So I guess it works out in the end. Besides, how can you strive in a game where the goal is to be a sub-par player?

I sawed . . . and left some more sawing for today.

And wouldn’t you know it, but when I got up to take Alison to work, it was raining! Raining!!! I said that I guess I wouldn’t be working out today; I sighed. Then when I got home and still had a lot of snot in my nose and sinuses, I decided to take some medicine and lie back down – since I couldn’t do my planned pruning.

When I pulled the blanket away from face, THE SUN WAS OUT and things had dried off. The sky was also blue. I would say Mother Nature decided I was not sincere in my “oh, shucks, it’s raining and I can’t work out” attitude and decided to let me have it up side the head. (I must sign up for acting classes.)

I tried to suck it up and get out there, but I couldn’t do it. So I went into the kitchen  – and while having a theological discussion with Cameron  -  put some beef in the slow cooker so I could shred it, and then let it sit in barbeque sauce overnight and simmer it tomorrow. It didn’t take long. I could still go out. I didn’t.

I am inside, looking out at the sun and listening to the birds.  Maybe I can manage to saw out one big, fat and tall leader – just one – sometime today. I just looked at the weather – THUNDERSTORMS ARE PREDICTED for the PM!!! Oh, but they are not to start until six.

What is it Chef Ramsay always tells me? Oh, yeah. I remember.

* By the way, I couldn’t find any of my Lands End hats and had to wear my bright yellow SPAM hat that LZP had sent. It was cool; the high school girls who passed by on the way home from school thought it was so neat that they giggled . . . once they were three feet past me. And, rats, I can’t find my pictures of my Spam hat. Oh, I also have a Spam shirt, also courtesy of LZP. Well, I just have to take new pictures.

We checked in Rural King, thinking perhaps rugged farm kids would still be flying kites. No. Or maybe they make them themselves. So I guess I will be looking at Amazon. com, which Summer used to think was Amazing.com. Actually it is a new-fangled Sears & Roebuck catalogue, now that I think of it.

INDIVIDUAL PACKAGES??? FOR LUNCH BOXES??? AUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH!

Cameron’s little food pyramid plus the Wide Obelisk of Intensity.

colored at Scizzor Worx. She me above? Yes, that is really me, AmeliaJake.

Donna (See Below)

Ah, where was I? Oh, yes, Donna (See Above) cut it and colored it for me.

And while we were talking about school and people at my house – especially the girl – who is getting ready for the first day, she mentioned they are having a back-to-school sale on haircuts.

This is great because I know a girl in junior high or high school doesn’t want to look uncool when opening day comes. I have fine and really straight hair and Donna did this with it. Gives me a confidence, dontcha know? Makes a believer out of you, no?

I’m thinking “Hey, where was she when I was in school?” Well, okay, I guess she was in grade school; but lucky for today’s kids she grew up and has a shop. She’s not the only one at Scizzor Worx who can bring out the best on your head, either. They have a site on Facebook – Scizzor Worx – and you can meet the stylists and view all sales.

School may try to put the best in your head, but like I said, Scizzor Worx can put the best on it.

FYI: No scissors have been endangered by being part of Scizzor Worx.

Oh my gosh, earlier today Der Bingle was waiting out a rain drenching in the front part of Rural King and he called to tell me how glad he was not to be in a car with soaked dogs.  He, Summer and Cameron took the dogs to the fairgrounds just a wee bit ago and guess what? Get ready. The sky opened up and is smacking the earth with water. I don’t think I can truly call it rain – it looks like a waterfall out there.

If they get drenched, they will have to change clothes because all but me are going to Auburn to watch movies. Colin, Summer, the dad and the mom are going to Marmaduke; Der Bingle is accompanying Cameron to a horror flick. I’m kind of under the weather – that is, is the bathroom – and I guess Summer only agreed to go if Der Bingle would sit through the Splice film with Cameron.