This is a picture of the 9th hole at my favorite local golf course. It was taken on March 7, about two weeks ago. As you can see, the course was snow-covered, but I was meeting Seri for pre-season coffee at the clubhouse. Surprisingly, we were not the only ones there. Even with the frigid cold winter we had, there were some diehards who played through the season. I recognized a white-haired senior player with a handlebar moustache, and he sat with me and Seri, telling us about frozen putting greens that played hard as glass, and other details from his winter golf rounds. Mr. Moustache knew the Defectress and asked if we'd seen her. I told him we hadn't seen her since November. I didn't tell him the truth, which was that I really didn't want to see her. Late in the season, I finally got tired of her smug arrogance and the noisy wheels of her electric cart just started to annoy me. So, I won't be calling the Defectress to play any time soon. But that was decided last year. This is now, and time to think positive.
Walking back to the parking lot from the clubhouse, I discovered something new about the local golf course: it is open for cross-country skiing in the winter. I had cross-county skied once in my life, years ago. It was a great workout. Maybe next year, I will try it again. Here's a picture of a cross-country skier gliding past the snack shop at the turn:
I'd always thought they closed the range on snow-covered days. I mean, isn't it hard to find white practice balls buried in white snow? But apparently, golfers are allowed to swing away and staffers are sent out to collect the balls on foot. So, of course, I bought myself a small bucket and flailed away.
Today, all the snow has melted and the course is open for play. I've hit the range twice in the past two weeks, but haven't gotten my nerve up to make a tee time. One more range session and I think I'll be ready.
But ready or not, I will play.
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