Not writing and not posting on this bloggy thing is a lot like not answering a ringing telephone. (Which I am also quite good at ignoring.) And yet, it haunts me. Okay, not actually haunts like I am scared or anything, but it crosses my mind often and everywhere I go I think of topics or ideas of things I could, maybe even should write about. Then don’t.

All practices come and go, or at least change.

Today’s, new found “practice” is shooting golfs! I am not interested in playing a golf game, but over the years I have really enjoyed going to the driving range with friends, and whacking the balls in hopes they fly.

I found a couple of clubs at the Tacky Shop on the island — $2. each, and bought two; a number 7 iron and a number 5 driver. Then I went out to the golf club here and paid $60. for 20 tokens! A token fills up a pretty good size bucket with the dirtiest golf balls I’ve ever seen and I am provided with a good 30 – 40 minutes of joy!

I even enjoy the whack when the ball dribbles off the platform because as Joe says, I peaked, (lifted my head too soon) and even when I swing and miss and even when the ball for some unknown reason sails straight off to the right of where it should be going. Still, there are times when I whack that ball just right and it sails high and down the middle of the range and well…. Bliss and satisfaction explode in me. Like a child, I want to yell, “Look at that one! It was great!”

Usually there are geese on the range too. They gather in a group and sleep or eat bugs, sometimes it seems like they are just standing around. I haven’t hit one yet — but I have made them lift their heads as a ball drops near by. Once I made one take a step and one flap its wings. It was great!

I suppose I shouldn’t say this stuff out loud. It’s right up there on par with not liking children, but oh well. I continue to be harmlessly inappropriate.

In other parts of the country, war, famine and floods are consuming the day. For me, right now I am not answering the phone and shooting golfs in the sun.