GOD LOOKS OUT FOR THE GETTERS

# 87 See Tiger Woods

I’ve not long been a golf fan, in fact for many years I had an aversion to it before realizing that indeed a girl could golf. When I tried to invite myself to the golf course where my ex-husband lived and breathed, he told me that girls didn’t golf. In fact that golf is an acronym that means gentlemen only ladies forbidden.

Later when I got myself a new husband, a regular golf date, and some new clubs; I also worked in a liking to watching tournaments on TV. But way before this happened, you didn’t have to be involved in golf to know about Tiger Woods.

Somehow, this boy turned man was just plain magic. Anyone can see that. There is something mystical and undefinable about him that would filtrate through whatever game he might be playing, whether chess or golf. It didn’t take me long to realize that he simply must be on my life list.

Now, I have the original list of 100 Things I Want To Do and then there’s the updated version. In fact, I have three lists. The original, the updated, and the list of things I have already done that I didn’t know I wanted to do where I write them and highlight them all at the same time. This is why my list of 100 things has grown into 100+ Things I Want To Do.

Where was I ? Oh yeah…. # 87 See Tiger Woods

A long and worthy pursuit.

Regular golf dates. Cute new golf shoes. New golf Clubs. Old golf friends. Golf trips. Golf Trip Plans….girls included. My friend and regular golf partner Khristi and I decided we would get a collective Christmas present for our guys and scramble partners. Tickets to the PGA in Tulsa, Oklahoma. A place near enough and in advance enough that we could finagle. We made the gift spirited by giving them clues for 12 days of Christmas in the form of Wheel of Fortune, prizes included. I think the puzzle was "Tickets to the Professional Golf Association Tournament in Tulsa Oklahoma on August 11, 2007". Impossible to guess in 12 days, but yes…Brian guessed it in two. To this day, Khristi believes I told Brian the answer. I swear! Khristi, I did NOT tell him. A little kink came into my plan to see Tiger Woods when we found out Grace was pregnant and her due date was August 11. To make a long story short…it all worked out and we were soon on our way to Tulsa, Oklahoma….oh my gosh # 87…here I come!

After five hours, 2 six-packs, good road music, 1 warning ticket and 1 real one, we arrived at the Piney Woods Country Club, Tulsa, Oklahoma. The tournament would be a live broadcast and all the chatter was about the sweltering August heat and predictions of 100+ temperature and humidity.

Khristi and I spent the first day getting our toes done, eating, and shopping as would any devoted golf fan, letting the guys have their time to be serious. In fact, we watched the tournament on TV in the comfort of our perfectly chilled hotel room with our perfectly chilled beer.

But the next day was the day I would be able to mark off # 87 with my yellow highlighter. And a day I would also be able to create a new cliché (see # 12). "God looks out for the getters."

We find ourselves stationed on # 4 –a par 4…at the top of the hill, beneath the trees which have allowed little shade as of yet, a light zephyr, 90+ humidity, 800 degrees, a few slightly famous golfers…one after the other, 2nd shot to the green, and 2 or 3 putting it in. There is not enough water or beer or shade or breeze to make it until the afternoon when we know that Tiger will make his appearance, just yards from our coveted seats. Tiger Woods….I have waited a lifetime (well since at least 1997) to see you in person. #87….you are about to become yellow!

There is no pride when one’s shirt has melted into his and especially her chest. We are all in the same boat, the crowd can’t be stirred with a stick, and no one is giving up their place even in the sun in one of the largest crowds on record. We are in need of refreshments. It becomes agonizingly apparent that Brian is not going to budge, and we have lost Babe and Bear to the shade in the #4 fairway…we can only see them in the distance, and they have the binoculars. Ok…I’ll go make the trek over the hill and through the dale, stand in line to get some water and a couple of beers. I’ve been learning all summer how to hold in my emotions and not always acting like I feel. Maintaining my composure…a thing hard for Geminis. I must admit, I am a little miffed that Brian would actually let me be the one to go get the refreshments..seems kind of like a guy thing to me. But I offer, he accepts, and so I go…literally over the hill, through the dale, sun beating down on my overheated self…and dang if I don’t come upon a bottle neck of a crowd which only irritates me further…why can’t these people just keep walking?

And then I hear those resounding words that change my life…"player coming through". I find myself at the fringe, just as the course clerk cuts me off with his bright yellow rope. I look up to see a shiny new Buick driving slowly behind a tall black fellow sauntering through the parking lot. NO FREAKIN WAY!!…..Tiger Woods, wearing his traditional Sunday red shirt, black pants, perfect body, walks RIGHT.IN.FREAKIN.FRONT.OF.ME. We are so close I could reach out to touch him and believe me, I would have if I hadn’t believed the course clerk would have slapped my hand away. Remember…I’m practicing restraint. He walks; no he sways, to the practice green. One, two, step ball change, three, four…shimmy by…five, six…. and leans his fine self over to sink in a 15-foot putt. I am about to faint, not from heat, but because I have found myself in the presence of greatness. His magic is not a myth. He really REALLY is divination and there are just no words to explain it.

I find myself literally talking out loud, "oh my gosh, I can’t believe it, it’s him, he’s there, he’s right there, it’s really him"….a young boy right in front of me overhears me and says to his dad…"didn’t we see him at the Byron Nelson?" I want to thump the back of his little rich noggin.

Restraint.

This is my moment in time, one I more than likely will not have the chance to repeat. And really why would I want to? I am in the presence of greatness. I am in awe. Tiger Woods is the embodiment of human perfection. He is like a gazelle leaping over a brook even though he’s standing still. I pause and watch him for a few more moments when I remember…. I am on a mission…we are thirsty….get the refreshments…and that’s when my new cliché comes to me.

…."God looks out for the getters" coupled with the words from my new old favorite tune by the very great and very much alive Don Williams…God indeed looks out for the getters and I am indeed livin’ on Tulsa Time!

PAPER DOLL WORLD

Do you need to be here?

but would rather be there?

Then I have a great idea for you

Have you found yourself stuck in a seminar
where some neurotic person keeps asking
stupid questions?






or in a board meeting that's lasting way too long?

Attending the funeral of someone you barely know?




I'm not that good at it yet

but if you need to be here...

Give me a shout

I'll cut you out

I'll paste you there

So you can be here!

THIS IS NOT MY HUSBAND BUT IT REMINDS ME OF HIM

My 2nd marriage has so far been my favorite. It kind of came about in a quirky sort of way that we won’t get into and it’s been through some things that have made me feel like I am the strongest wife on the face of the planet.

Today, I came across this photo and it almost brought me to tears.

I got married in Jayton, Texas and had my honeymoon in Post. When I tell people that, they ALL have the EXACT same question….WHY?

But that’s beside the point…the honeymoon is what’s important here.

December 20…huge and I mean HUGE blizzard…gold satin wedding dress…black high top Converse All Stars that also complemented my going away dress…sweet ceremony…and a drive a few miles away to a cozy B&B to begin our life together. When it was time to go to bed that night…my precious new husband put on a cape and literally flew into bed just like in the photo and just like Superman. That’s the way he felt. I wasn’t a virgin…better…I was Lois Lane.

His demonstrations such as these are what I love the most about him and this marriage we are in together. He continues to surprise me, make me laugh, and make me anticipate the next thing he will do that will be unforgettable. Kryptonite!

Just for the record…that bed was really antique and he was going really fast and he really broke it. We had to skulk down the hall to the library and grab a couple of books to prop it up. I’m sure the B&B keeper understood.

ANGEL FOOD ANGEL

Q:Your people want to make a statue in your honor. What will it be made out of and what victory will it commemorate?

A:"I will be a statue made of Angel Food Cake that will commemorate my being an angel."

This was a question posed to me when I first became a blogger. I understand the question, but the answer just doesn't seem to fit.

Or does it?

In fact, the more I think about it, the more I say it does!

And I have found the perfect statue to use as my model. Imagine her in angel food cake instead.

I'm kind of diggin' those perky boobs and I'm pretty sure that rock thingy can be made to look more like a scone. For that part instead of using cake...they can use one of my actual scones!

NEAT!

RISE UP!

When my youngest daughter was in 8th grade, she was trying very very hard to be the Valedictorian of her class. She studied so hard all the time and worked her butt off for her good grades. (Btw..she was Salutatorian.)

She asked me one day why we were republican and I explained it to her like this.

I said, "ok…you have worked and worked and studied and studied. You have studied instead of hanging out with friends or playing on your computer…you have studied and chosen to make some sacrifices for your good grades.
So…what if after all you had done to make good grades, there was a boy in your class that could be just as smart as you, but he chose instead to play football, hang with friends, or play on his computer and he made failing grades. And then the teacher came in and said…M…you have a 100 in my class and R has a 0…I am going to share your 100 with him and you will both have a 50…so this class can be more fair.
I continue..you won’t get to be the Valedictorian of your class, but you will still make a high grade and because of what you have given to him…he will rise a little..but he will cause you to fall. Do you think that’s fair?"

I ask you the same question. Do you?

A common danger tends to concord. Communism is the exploitation of the strong by the weak. In Communism, inequality comes from placing mediocrity on a level with excellence.

I THINK IT'S FUNNY TOO

Laugh and clap and be full of joy all you want!

...I will too...

because...

you just got fired today!

TO THE COURSE AND BRING YOUR PUTTER

This is why I like to play golf with Simon. He knows right where he's been. He knows right where he's going. #19...here we come!

CHURCH IN EMPTY NESTERVILLE

I grew up going to Sunday school and church at Pleasant Valley Baptist where my grandmother played the piano. When my family moved here, I became a Methodist. For most of my life, nearly every single Sunday consisted of Sunday school, church, and roast. It must have been deeply ingrained in me because I did the same things with my kids and I still believe it’s the way a family should live.

Except..now, I go to church on Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday and just about every day except for Saturday and Sunday. And quite often I serve that roast that I grew to dread.

What happened? I got out of the routine and fell into a different one.

Since I now live in Empty Nesterville…our weekends are glorious! Sometimes doing absolutely nothing and sometimes cramming them so full that it takes me the week to get over it. Travel, golf, gourmet cooking, entertaining, auctions, or just skulking about the county looking for wood to carve!

So…thank you Creflo Dollar for doing what you do. Especially thank you Beth Moore…for bringing me God’s message on my schedule and letting me do my 20 minutes of stairstepping while I go to church.

Thank you me for being sure enough of who I am to not care about what people think about my spirituality.

It’s kind of a pretty darn good way to worship! But I must admit…sometimes I miss my red lips, poofy hair and dotty skirts!

POOL SIDE CHATS

There’s not such a thing better than having a good friend who has a pool in her backyard.

On occasion, we are all invited over, sometimes to celebrate the birthday of a friend, sometimes for no reason at all other than just to plain chill.

After the "cannon balls with pearls" have all been judged, and ice cold sangria from the fridge has been grabbed, we call dibs on the floaties and begin to ….float.
　
Topics of conversation might include:

• Bob Costa's hair--real or not
• Wedding Cake Makers
• Nosy neighbors
• Each other's karma
• Purchasing the local flowershop
• Playing the "All Time Favorite Game"
• And most certainly...toe polish color

Benign, simple, quality, leisurely, sweet…a spectacular way to spend a hot summer afternoon with a trusted group of friends who could care less about cellulite, tummy rolls, work, or stress…and lot more about what color our toes are and who does the best cannon ball…pearls or not.

And...lazy pool side chat days? You are only just around the corner!! And we wait patiently for you!

AND THAT'S WHAT I GET

....for drinking and ebaying. Dang...7 N. Plain as day...friends, always look to the right when shopping for vintage frye boots..it will tell you plain as day if they are size 7 gosh dang NARROW!

CHUMLEE? WHY AREN'T WE FRIENDS?

Austin

"Chumlee"

Russell

I came a long way to see you and your pawn shop. I talked about it for weeks when I knew I was coming to your town I even gathered up some of my crap to bring you to pawn…just for fun!

Maybe if I’d done that you might have acted nicer.

But, man…you totally dissed me. When I gave you my great big Texas howdy, you just looked at me like you were bored and/or annoyed. I know we Texans can sometimes be over zealous, but you should be excited that you are a pawn star and take your role a little more seriously..because from watching you on tv…I don’t think you have much of a future except there.

I had you autograph a shot glass for my bff Missie for her 40th birthday and if you’d been the least bit kind, I might have bought a t-shirt…but nope…you gave me a bored look.

I just can’t believe that you’re already bored with being a Pawn Star.

I’m still glad I met you though. It was pretty cool!

SCONES FOR ALL APPLICATIONS

“I’m going to be baking the most delicious little sugar cookies that I can also use as a place card holder”Ina Garten, March 9, 2010, Builder’s Luncheon Episode for Food Network Show.

I to hubby: did she pilfer my scone recipe?

Hubby: which one?

Me: The one I prepared and took to my peep party?

Me: I think I forgot to sift my flour though.

Conversation in reference to leftover scones from peep party

BFF Denise: Don’t forget your scones in the back seat.

Me: Oh, you can have them…feed them to Roy's cattle..or use them for...

YOUR NEXT BUILDER’S LUNCHEON AS A PLACE CARD HOLDER!

REMEMBER THIS?

Man I do. And I'm not too big to do it either. I just can't do it and take a photo of myself doing it....so I rise up to the the next level and help my Betty do it and capture it so that we will both remember.

Remember that feeling of flying through the crisp fall air, high as the sky, feet reaching for the clouds and feeling that giddy feeling in your tummy that tumbles out as a giggle and a wheeeeee out loud!

NOT EVEN!

Dear AARP,

Leave me alone. I am not joining you. Your emails are falling on deaf....eyes.

I am a cougar and my hubby doesn't like to be reminded that I am 11.358214 years older than him...and frankly, neither do I.

It is a snazzy bag...though...I will give you that.

Hey can I get discounts on Kentucky Derby tickets?

Have your peeps get with my peeps and I might reconsider the membership. However...this bag does not match my hat.

We have some time to play around with the thought though.

Sincerely,Me

MY FRIEND GRACE

"My friend Grace told me to hit my knees."
　
As I was reading Lizzy’s blog today, she begins to tell her recent story from the beginning…..this sentence stopped my eyes in their sockets and filled them with tears.

Thank you God for my Grace and yours. Thank you God for my little girl who has grown into one of the finest young women I will ever have the honor to know.

Strength, character, charm, endurance, wisdom and depth....and faith.

She is a leader. She has forever been a crusader. She is gracious, kind, and polite. She is a friend. And she is headed north. Her compass is headed North.

To read Lizzy and MJ's Story...http://http//www.iheartgalveston.com/

CAN'T SNIPE ME!

ACME cowboy leather campus vintage boots BOHO.... "Oh Crap...that's what I get for putting in a high bid because I as leaving to go to the post office. I never thought I'd win," are the words I said to hubby after I accidently won this snazzy pair of vintage boots on ebay.

Hope I can hide my delight when I wear them with my new strapless chambray sun dress with the flower in the middle.

I FELL DOWN AND BROKE MY CROWN

Who was the first one that thought up the idea that we as mothers have to always be a good example? For the most part, I agree with this idea and believe that I am. But sometimes, every now and then I (ahem)…fail.

Like just last week my to do list included spending a fun evening with my precious two grown daughters…and everyone knows that grown kids are way more fun than young ones.
I had looked forward to this day all month, but a few things happened along the way. I got annoyed with college daughter and well..let’s just make a long story short and say…it was entirely my fault. Really it was. Even though queenly behavior is unacceptable to me, I tolerate it for two reasons.

1. I did it myself I’m just sure of it
2. It’s a phase. It’s a phase. It’s a phase.

But after my first dark beer with no supper, I got a little chatty and kind of slipped and called her a brat. After all, if I can tolerate her pouting because I’m not buying her stuff, then surely she can tolerate me calling her a brat. Funny…she didn’t like it and not so funny..she texted (under the table) her brother to come get her. That’s when I really got mad. I think I might have dropped the fbomb, and then drank too much wine that later made me cry and you aren’t going to believe this…I actually took a tumble. I was so glad to find out I had just stepped off the curb wrong rather than just fell for no reason at all.

I was just so darn mad that I had let my chance to be a good example escape me. Kind, sweet, fun, funny, endearing. Nope…not anything of the dang kind.

The next day I tried the redemption thing and gave my entire cup of change to the man under the bridge which he more than likely used to gas up his beemer…but that’s his life issue, not mine.

And so…I got to thinking. Yeah—ok so I flunked the sweet example part, but some day when she has a couple of sister/daughters she wants to spend time with and all they do is text each other in her very presence about what a koo koo bird drag she is…then I will have taught her all the ins and outs of a different kind of example.

What if you aren’t only a mother? What if you are a sister, a daughter, a wife, or a good good friend? And you’re not that good at it every day all day? What if the real example is this:
Fall down, break your crown, get up, pretend you don’t have a headache, hot glue your crown back together, put it back on your head, laugh about your crooked jewels, and plant tulips in the spring.

Kind of takes the tightness out of that crown doesn’t it?

WISDOM AND DEPTH

One day I was driving to another town with my precious 3 year old when I spotted a field full of grazing antelope. We slowed down to get a better look and she sat for a moment and said something so profound that I remember it 26 years later...she said...

"Just think mom...if they were cantaloupe, they'd be fruit."