51...

51...

After spending most of the day in my garden I took off for the golf course after supper to see how many holes I could get in before dark. If I could drop my score by 7 strokes every time I played, I'd quit my day job. I played much better this week, but I can still do better.

After my friend and I finished the first nine (that was my 51) it looked like we had time to do some of the back nine. We managed to get 7 holes in before the sun was fully down. It was a great night. On the back I parred 2 of the 7 holes. (In aiming to break 50 consistently my goal is to average just about 1 1/2 strokes over par. There are 36 strokes on each nine holes, so a 45 is consistent bogey golf. When people say, with derision, "Thats par for the course" it is kind of ironic because par is really good golf.)

I started planting my garden today. Here is what the boxes look like under construction.

And here is how it looks with the slats in place. If you blow it up, you may notice that some of the squares are a little darker. Thats because I soaked them good before putting out seeds. Of course the stuff in front are some seeds that I'm starting in doors.

I find myself a little reluctant to expose my ignorance here because I feel I "should" know this stuff - like when to plant what. Based on a variety of sources I decided I could put out a handful of frost tolerant plants (sugar snap peas, Swiss Chard, parsley, lettuce, spinach, kohlrabi, and sage). I don't really know what I'm doing, but I figure I'll learn as I go. Then in the pots in front you'll see a couple varieties of peppers (hot and sweet), cantelope, winter squash and some heirloom tomatoes that I saved from the sweetest tomato that I ever ate from the market last year.

For all I know, master gardeners who are reading this are rolling their eyes... you're welcome to teach. But better yet - I'm looking for starts of rhubarb, peppermint and raspberries, as well as hostas. I might also be able to use some native tall grasses.

One other thing I have to tell you...

As I was working, the entire neighborhood had gathered two doors down at the Comet's house. There is a 6' high fence bordering their property so I can't really see what is going on, except they have a play structure that pokes over the top. But I can hear everything.

In these days of video games and tv, I didn't know kids knew how to play like this anymore. At the top of the fort I could see the oldest girls wearing bandannas as head scarfs, and it turned out that they were all pirates - or at least sailors. There were a lot of "Ahoy Mates!" and shouts of "Land Ho!" and the voyage seemed to progressing nicely.

Then suddenly somebody yelled "Oh No! Here come the Indians!!!!!" Bedlam ensued. (OK, so they're not PC - get over it.)

It was a terrible battle:

"They're gaining on us!" "Quick, full speed ahead!" "I'm at full throttle." "No - they're too fast" "Then man the cannons." "OK" "Blam" "Pshuu" "I got one!" "On no, they're coming over the side!" "Oh, I'm hurt" "I'll help you." "Look Out!!!"

This went on for at least 10 or 15 minutes. It was simply amazing. Their imaginations were so rich, and they fed off each other like the best improv actors you'd hope to see. What a treat.

58...

58...

Last winter the local golf course announced an incredible bargain: a 2 year membership for less than half of what a 1 year membership usually costs. So I (along with nearly a thousand other people) bit.

So I can golf all I want, any time I want, and as long as I walk it won't cost me another dime for greens fees.

Today I finally played my first nine holes. I'm getting my money's worth. I'm down to $6.17 per shot. I played - well - badly. A couple years ago I was trying to consistently break 100 on 18 holes - which is a nice round 50/nine. Today's 58 tells me I have some ground to reclaim. (If I had hit 50 it would have cost me $7.31 a shot, so you see what a deal I have going.)

One thing I noticed is that I got kind of emotionally involved in my score. Swearing is not a good sign.

I play much better when I can care just enough to hit the ball right, and not so much that I get upset when I blow it. It is the same kind of loose tension that good violin playing takes.

I'm confident that if I could play 1 full round a week, I could break 100 consistently. But that is 5 hours a week - a big commitment if I'm going to play any music, keep a garden, and a full time job.

In other news - I got my first 4x4 garden bed put together and filled with dirt - almost ready to plant.

Come by it honestly...

Come by it honestly...

I hope my mother doesn't mind if I quote the email she sent in response to yesterday's post:

The word is spelled putzed. Grandma Stalter liked to use that word.
I suppose all parents use harmless deceptions now and then. The way I got you boys to eat tuna was to say it was chicken of the sea. That happened to be the advertising slogan of one of the brands.

I had forgotten.

Tonight I took a long walk in the woods hunting the wild dog(wood). Wildflowers and new growth are everywhere. And in one space hundreds of American Beech trees were still holding on to their tissue paper leaves from last year. It was quiet and calming.

It also brought back memories of a trip to the same woods five - maybe six - years ago with my dad. I know it was the last one he made, becoming increasingly housebound after that. I'm sure he would have known all the good hunting places. As it was, I found a beauty.

Music truck...

Music truck...

When I was a little kid, I LOVED long twilight evenings in the spring and summer. You know that time between sunset and dark dark?

Tonight brought all that back to me. I loved wandering around the yard at dusk. Often Dad was finishing up some project. Or on weekends we used to play hide & seek or kick the can; parents inside talking and letting us race madly around outside until who knows when. Pleasant memories.

The weather bar on my google sidebar says it is 70, and it is 9pm. Which explains why I was out _____ing in my yard until it was almost too dark to see. (What is the verb I'm looking for? Working isn't it. The word that comes to mind is putsing, but I don't know how to spell it. Dinking around? Playing? Humm...) Anyhow, I got my first raised bed box in position tonight, and then - and then I don't know what happened. I just putsed around. The evening just seemed to stretch out indefinitely. And before gathering up my laptop to write this post I sat under the moon and watched the bats and swallows feeding some 30 feet overhead. It was marvelous. Joyful even.

It was so pleasant I didn't even mind the music truck. I found myself cheerfully humming the opening 24 bars of "The Entertainer" because the music truck was blaring it all over the neighborhood. If you're not sure what the music truck is, this is where I have to apologize to my son. You see, when he was a toddler I told him that the ice cream truck that rolled slowly down the street on summer nights was the music truck playing nice music just for him. I'm not sure how long that little lie lasted. Anyhow, if you're reading this, Ben, I'm sorry. It was a nasty bit of deception, ranking up there with Santa Claus.

Check point...

Check point...

My flight home arrived at about 11:20pm - a few minutes early. I happened to meet a friend from church on the same flight, and offered her a ride back to town to save her husband the late night trip to the airport. All was fine, except the airline lost her luggage (big surprise) so by the time she got that taken care of we were pulling into town at 12:50.

To my surprise, the entire police force had set up a sobriety check point in front of the high school. They were out in full force, wearing flak jackets and checking registration. I was clean, but would they have been as nice to me if my name was Juan? I know I have a broken parking light. Do I really need to tell them where I've been and where I'm going? I did because I wanted to get home, but it was a show of force that I was not expecting to see. At the time it was funny in a 'I can't believe we're having to do this on top of everything else.' In retrospect it is a little sobering.

Travel report...

Travel report...

I arrived in Baltimore ("Fair Baltimore, the beautiful city..." a great song that Pete used to sing kept running through my head as I was driving around town.) yesterday morning after leaving the house at 4:30am. Flight was uneventful, and my meeting - which ran from about 11:30 to 7:30 - was worth the trip. I'm in Newark, DE this morning; heading up to S. NJ this afternoon and back to visit my old friend Dave in PA tonight. Tomorrow I'll visit a customer in York before returning to Baltimore for one last meeting in the afternoon and a flight home late Wednesday night. Whew...

Congrats...

Congrats...

To my friend Steve who aced his CFI (Certified Flight Instructor) check ride today. He told me "I've flown better, but the examiner said everyone has that experience on a check ride. He told me I was well prepared and above average."

Above average, indeed. Way to go Steve.

Mambo...

Mambo...

Looks like as much fun as the MCCO.