Windchimes

one of those funny red balls will be provided

I should be writing a German paper. I just can't face it yet. Want to write about all the balls I've been whacking and chasing this weekend.

Yesterday afternoon, Sigma Tau Delta hosted a student-faculty kickball game. The professors kicked our butts, I forgot the score, but more of them crossed home base than us. Sigma Tau Delta is the English honor's organization. I'm sure they picked those greek letters before sexually transmmitted diseases became thus abbreviated, but it makes for some fun moments. This year's STD president plans on having t-shirts made. Something about it being "catching."

Anyway. We all gathered on one of the intramural fields at around 4:00, and played and ate watermelon until about 5:30. Short game, yes. We are English scholars. After the game, the melon, and the requisite group photo, most of us went home for a quick shower to regather at one of the professor's appartments about an hour later. She must have planned to invite everyone over. She had all kinds of luscious appetizers arranged and available on the dining and coffee tables, and that was just to tide us over until the pizzas arrived. It was such a lovely evening, the kind I often imagined when I'd dream about the opportunities college life might make available to me. I shared the sofa with the dept. chair for a good little while, and she made many helpful suggestions when we discussed the topic of the senior seminar class I'm taking. I also got to get to know some of the other professors a little better. Found out that Dr. H. chooses not to have a television. She knows her drug, she says, and she's clean and sober. They're all such interesting conversationalists.

Before I go on, I should give credit where credit is due, as far as the title of this entry is concerned. That came from the letter announcing the kickball game, written by the current Sigma Tau Delta president Patrick. "One of those funny red balls will be provided." Isn't it great???

So, that's what I was doing yesterday when I maybe should have been writing my German essay, or reading articles for my senior sem class, or reading Ronsard sonnets for my French poetry class, or revising my essay on Louise Labe's "Je vis, je meurs." Now, this morning when I could have been doing any of that stuff....no, wait, actually I did spend the morning doing some school work...this afternoon, when I could have been doing some of that school work, I spent on a golf course. This was my very first attempt at anything more serious than miniature golf. I told the guys who invited me that I needed to get to know the game better for a paper I've got to write (which is true) so I could call the afternoon's activity "research." Sounds good, huh? And I did make sure to ask questions and take notes between strokes, of which I made 74.

74 when playing 9 holes on a course where all the holes are par 3's. Not brilliant, but maybe not too shabby for a first time either. Trouble is, Josh caddied for me. Well, I say "trouble is" as if that's a bad thing. I'm sure I wouldn't have even stayed under 90 strokes if Josh hadn't caddied for me. However, I still don't thoroughly know which clubs I used and why. He simply handed me whichever club he thought would help me best make each shot. Kind of reminds me of when I first started learning to use a computer, or any new kind of software. My husband and kids invariably knew more about all of that than I did (and I'm sure they still do) so when I wanted to learn how to do something with it they always just said, "here, look" and started pointing, typing, and clicking away. It was like giving me a meal instead of teaching me how to fish, as the old saying goes. Wasn't till I was motivated to get on here by myself and someone urged me to just keep playing around until I figured it out (that was waterbaby by the way) that I learned I could learn.

But back to golf. I still have more research to do before I write that paper. Need to go back to that course and see if I can talk to the folks who maintain the thing. I'd also like to talk to someone who designs and constructs them. And one of these days, I mean to learn which club is called what (putters, i know) and why one club works better than another for a shot that has to get you out of the tall grass.

Maybe next weekend.

On the smoking cessation front, it's been 42 days now. I stopped wearing the patches about a week ago too, because they were starting to annoy me worse than any cravings were. I was on the step two patches anyway.

It's bliss.

J.H. Larrew
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