April 15--All I Wanted Was a Nice Evening on the Course

When we have exhausted our store of endurance, 
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done, 
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources, 
Our Father’s full giving is only begun. 
--Howard Thurman

    I am one tough broad. Here's my story, along with assorted roaming through my brain. Thursday afternoon I headed to Auburn Hills for my ladies golf league play. It was breezy, but otherwise a lovely night for golf. I invited the "golf gods" to have some fun with me. Play started on the front nine, which I find especially challenging, so much so that it is not only a physical challenge, but a mental one, too. I quickly learned that the "golf gods" idea of fun did not match mine. On the second hole, a fairly easy par four, I was in both sand traps and plenty of rough, taking a 10 on that hole. The next hole, a par 3, found my second shot in some nasty rough. I hit my ball out, and took a step to walk toward the green. I didn't see the tiny "stumps" (3" tall, 1" diameter) that were sticking up all around me. I stepped on one and down I went. Twisted ankles, bloody shin, assorted scrapes. I regrouped, got myself up, and finished a dreadful 9-hole round. Nothing was broken, and the fall could have been much worse. 

    However, the most troubling thing, since I was not horribly hurt, is that I attribute this to getting old. Anyone at any age could have wiped out in the area I was in. Age was not relevant, but that's where my mind goes. I do not want to be an old person who falls down. I don't want to fall down, period. This frustration did bring on a good soul-rinsing cry. And I gave the "golf gods" a good talking-to!

    I'm mostly recovered and grateful for my rock solid bones, 

        Leta

I should get one of these!!