Most folks who have known me for a while understand that I devote Wednesday afternoons with acceptable weather to playing golf, as I have for 35 years or so. There are several reasons for the development of this routine, the biggest of which is work related.
In the old days when I was running the Village News and Citizen-Journal in Osceola, it was not particularly unusual for me to have a good 40 hours in by noon Wednesday. Thus it was time for a break.
Since the acquisition of the Courier News and Osceola Times 17 years ago, that load has lightened to a more acceptable 20 hours or so early in the week but I kept up the Wednesday afternoon golf habit as a counterbalance to adding another half-day's work on some rather important commercial jobs that had to be done Thursday night (and/or real, real early Friday morning).
So it all works out in the end.
But back to Wednesday afternoons with acceptable weather.
This Wednesday was not one of them, even though the sun was shining and the wind was just a breeze, making a trip to Thunder Bayou a better option that the plowed up greens at the Country Club.
There were eight of us in two groups out at the Bayou, and there wasn't a mention of an "emergency nine" from anybody when we got off the 105 degree golf course.
Dr. R. Dean Gurley mustered the energy to mention that he was never, ever going out there when it was that hot, ever, ever again.
"I'm just glad to be alive," he noted.
Several of the other regular Wednesday afternoon golfers are a good bit younger than me and Gurley, and perhaps working at Nucor keeps them in a lot better shape, but they were all pretty much whipped.
And hot.
During the round I drank six 12-ounce Gatoraides, six 12-ounce bottles of water, and two beers ... and weighed 209 when I got home after weighing 217 that morning.
It was a hot day on the golf course.
I have a rather fuzzy recollection of holing out a 60-yard pitch for an eagle 2 on No. 15, but that's the only shot of that round that stands out. I was just hanging in there, trying to survive, and guzzling that liquid.
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I'll be out there again next Wednesday, but I hope for a little milder weather.
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Middle son Kit is going to bring granddaughters Alexandra and Leah-Bo to Blytheville next week, probably pulling in Monday night, since he's off Tuesday and Wednesday now that he's a golf pro and works every weekend.
The girls will stay with us at least 'til next weekend, and maybe longer; I'm not sure exactly when they need to get back to Columbia, Mo., to start back to school.
Leah-Bo is going to enter Montessori School up there, which Helen Harber did such an excellent job with here in Blytheville years back. Leah-Bo is 3 and that's a good age for the Montessori system to have a positive effect on a little kid. I was always extremely impressed with the procedures used by the Montessori school here, and it should be very similar in Columbia.
Alexandra is now officially 7, and celebrated with her various family members, including My Dear Sweet Sainted Wife, last Saturday in Columbia. A troop of little girls and their various minders spent most of the day at someplace up there that's kind of like Walcott, over near Paragould, that has a swimming lake and playgrounds and other such stuff kids like.
My report was that Alex loved all her presents and had a great time with a sleep-over that night with all her little girlfriends hanging out.
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I'll be glad to have the girls around for another spell, and look forward to hitting the pool a few times now that Alex can almost swim and Leah-Bo will put her head under water for a little while without chugging too much water.
I'm sure the pool will be about 100 degrees by the time they get here (I guess its 95 already).
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We may have to sneak in a trip up to the Current River where there's some nice (cold) water to float down the river in.
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I got several comments about my "It's time for some answers about the money" piece in last week's column.
Comments, but no answers.
What does it take to impanel a grand jury around here anyway?
dtennyson@blythevillecourier.com