I went golfing this morning with Daddy-O.
I almost didn't go golfing this morning. I didn't wake up to my alarm and Daddy-O ended up waking me up as I should have been heading out the door. I managed to feed the cats, get dressed, brush my teeth and hair and grab breakfast to eat on the way. Oh, and make sure I had my EpiPen. I certainly can't go golfing without that.
I was out the door in five minutes.
It sure is pretty.
And frustrating. How can such a cute little white ball be so frustrating?
And what the heck is with this? I call it the Stairway to Hell. Isn't golf supposed to be walking from the tee to the green and chasing that cute little white ball? A little bit of uphill walking. A little bit of downhill walking. And chasing that cute little white ball. No where in there does it include a Stairway to Hell. They certainly left that part out of the brochure.
This guy came for a snack. He was very tame. Or she. I didn't get that close.
I am a good golfer.
In my dreams.
That was my score.