Golf Balls and Goof Balls

Now that spring is here where I am living one can start to enjoy outdoor activities such as golf. I am by no means a professional player nor do I want to be one either. I just love to hit those balls around the course and watch them fly through the air in the direction that I didn’t want them to go.

I have read and taken lessons on how to tee-off and hit the ball when you are on the fairway and I must say those manufactures of the golf balls must hate me or have planted a special chip in the ball that makes it always land in the water or sand trap or wherever else it shouldn’t land.

I think there is a golf ball conspiracy out there against me…

Recently while out golfing I teed-off and my ball landed right in the middle of the pond in the fairway.
But thank heavens I had my thigh waders for fishing with me and so I put them on and waded out into the pond and found my ball and could easily hit it because I had my new deep water club for hitting balls from a pond.

And believe me it makes a world of difference to know that you don’t need to drop a new ball and I can still stay within the par!

This is a real life saver.

While out on the course again there was someone with a GPS thingy that calculated everything for you and the only thing it didn’t do was hit the ball.

Where has the fun gone in the game of golf -> I ask ???

When do I need such a device plus it’s only more junk to carry around and with all the other stuff I need along with my supply of paper cups for the unknown beer stop or my thigh waders for the water I have no space for it. And if the battery dies then I am SOL and won’t be able to play at all.

But maybe that device has a hidden chip in it that controls the direction of my ball and then I could manage to get my ball onto the green in one stroke. I would be ecstatic if that happened. And then I would only need one more stroke and bingo -> my ball is in the hole.

But after that is the next hole where there is some long grass at the edge of the fairway and here I don’t worry either because I have my long grass cutter club and this works just like a hedge trimmer, so when I hit my ball the grass is cut away at the same time leaving the fairway free for me. Great device and a “must have” for this season!

And as I walk along the course it happens too sometime that my ball is drawn by the magnetic powers of the sand trap and seems to want to land in it. Again as a professional woman golfer; I have my sand shovel club and with one dig I am out of the trap and onto the green.
Life can be so easy when you know how to golf correctly and own the right set of clubs too.

After a short beer break at the 11th hole then it’s off again onto the course for the other adventures that I may face and believe me there are many!!!

I just mentioned all my great clubs that I own, but what I forgot was all those golf balls and what they are supposed to do for me.

It is said that they should fly far -> how? Do they have a built in engine somewhere?

Lightweight -> I thought all golf balls weighed less than a ton or am I missing out somewhere?

For men -> Why don’t you like us gals?

For women -> great colors now all you need to do is program then to land on the green after teeing off. Please do this for me and then you will have won my heart!

So I am sure many of you avid golfers out there will want to rush out for a new set of clubs like mine, but don’t forget you need the right ball or it will be a goof ball game of golf!

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Childhood memories

Now that spring is here and the sun is shining I got to thinking about those wonderful spring days of my childhood. We spent hours outside and our parents never worried about us and we were free to do whatever we wanted to do. Those were the days!!

Every spring myself and 4 other kids would meet-up to walk to the pond to catch pollywogs ( I hope that I spelt the word correctly.?) in our pails. I was the supplier of the pails because somehow my dad always seemed to have an endless supply of ½ gallon pails for us and we were always grateful for that. We would walk about a mile and ½ to the pond and take our socks & shoes off and wade into the ice cold water and at the same time our feet would turn blue from the cold. But we never got sick from that cold water; we were tough kids back then immune to everything!

After catching our pollywogs we would then count them to see who had the most. I always had the feeling that I was counting the same ones but I was never really sure. Then we would march back home with our pails to show our parents the wonders of nature in our pails. It was always exciting because you had to maneuver your way through the woods and not drop your pail or else that was the end of your pollywogs and they then went to pollywog heaven.

My parents wouldn’t let me keep my pollywogs because my mom thought that was cruel. I never understood her because in the pond there were millions of those things and that’s no joke either! But when my mom said bring your pollywogs back to the pond I normally went over to a friend’s house that had an inflatable swimming pool and we would dump them all in there and feed them daily and watch their progress and see how they grew their legs and turned into frogs.

That was real action not any computer games, TV or such. We learned about nature first hand and spent many wonderful hours outside doing such great things.

Though I do have one memory from my pollywog days that got us in real trouble. We normally took the dog with us that belonged to an elderly lady who live near us. I think the dog was a bit of a handful for her because he was a boxer and loved to run around with us until that afternoon.
Like always we picked Brutus up on our daily hike to the pond to check out what was happening to the pollywogs.

Normally we weren’t afraid of anything except skunks!!!

We were always told to steer clear of them but on that day we were too busy with our pollywogs to watch what Brutus was doing and while we were wading in the water we heard Brutus let out a sort of cry and thought quick we have to see what happened to him and you guessed it right -> the skunk sprayed Brutus and boy did he stink!!!!!!

We thought we could wash him in the pond but that didn’t work and so we went to one of my friend’s house and sprayed Brutus with room air freshener thinking that would do the trick and you know how kids are we somehow forgot about Brutus stinking and brought him back home and said we would visit him tomorrow.

About an hour later my mom got a phone call from Brutus’s owner saying that Brutus stunk like a skunk and did I know anything about it? I couldn’t lie and said yes but pretended that I really wasn’t sure what a skunk was. Bad move on my part because that was the end of my pollywog’s that spring and we all were grounded for a week. But that didn’t stop us from doing the same thing next year -> looking for pollywogs.

We did that for years until somehow we all grew out of that and our interests changed and that was the end of the pollywogs.