And to top everything off, one of our Washington Dairy princesses is LACTOSE INTOLERANT!
O.M.G. What's a mother to do??!!
Actually, there's only one thing to do when the world is spinning off its lunacy axis -- go hit golf balls. That brings you back to reality real fast.
I started playing golf three-now-going-on-four years ago (although I can't really count last season because of my foot surgery; that does tend to put a damper on anything involving two legs). And probably "playing" is a slight stretch since I can basically count on one hand the number of times I've been on a "big" course.
Would I love to drive the ball more than 90-100 yards at a time? Sure. It will happen one of these decades. I'm convinced of it. But at least I don't have to worry about losing track of my ball as it lofts into outerspace on its way to the 9th hole at the Planet Mars Golf and Country Club.
Always look at the bright side, right?
But, I have to say, duffer that I am, I love golf. I love the graceful ambience of golf courses. . . the musty, woodsy, hamburgery smell of the club house. . . and the muted, almost reverent conversations around the putting green. And I love the driving range.
That being said, I've been invited to play in a charity golf tournament in a couple of weeks, so I thought it might behoove me to toddle out to the driving range to make sure I can still distinguish one end of the club from the other. My goal is to get out every other afternoon or so.
My first trip out to the driving range is always a little nerve-wracking.
For one thing, I don't want to look like a complete rookie. Which I am.
I want to hit every ball clean, long and straight. Which I don't.
And I don't want my fellow "rangers" to be totally unhinged by some seriously amazing displays of golf geekiness. Which they aren't.
That's because they're too busy watching their own feckless drives careen and caroom every which way across the range. And, even better, more than a few of their balls plunk themselves down right next to mine at the 90-yard mark. That's the beauty of the driving range. We are all united by a common cause.