Checkered Lounge Pants

My good friend, John and I planned a golf game on the weekend. Thats no special deal considering the bevy of weekend golfers, except for the fact that John absolutely refuses to join the weekend hordes of golfers that infest the popular links. Well, much to my surprise, he agreed to come down from his historically recognized home in Dresden and share a game with me on Saturday. I, quite frankly, agree with John's seemingly phobic aversion to standing in line at tee-boxes and watch fellow hackers divot and flop and muff shots well witnessed by a gallery of Mulligan holding, white shoe wearing, designer club toting weekend golfers. We used to take one evening a week to do nine holes before John retired and we would alternate between his home course in Chatham and my favourite course in Lasalle. The only condition was, that, the one evening was never during the weekend to spare the humiliation of standing in, what was once a corn field or a pasture or a bush, and whack golf balls int

I had a travel day I would sooner forget, last week. I missed the afternoon train to Toronto, so I had to grab the 6 am the next morning for my destination to Montreal. I rose at 4 am and peering through the window into darkness, I could make out the outside thermometer to see it was going to be a "coffee on the patio" kind of day. However, time was a premiumm and I had a healthy drive and one stop to pick up my beloved Val on my way to the station. Not to worry, I will pack the laptop and catch up on my volumes of email on the new wireless service advertised on the train from Windsor to Montreal. I hopped onto the club car with about 7 minutes to spare, was received by the hospitable and, always polite and attentive, on board crew and very shortly "clickety-clacked" down the railroad track, as some famous country singer once sang. Anyhow, from that point on things seemed to digress. The wireless service, that I had quickly subscribed to, only worked when the consis

War is waging out side my living room window.....I spent a few pesos on some bird feeders to get the little wing-ged ones some sustenance after a long winter, and, after watching a few little "early birds" snack on some seeds, the squirrels have declared war on my efforts. The big grey squirrel has overcome all my surreptitious and scurrilous positionings of the feeder. I might have to fling open the purse strings and get Val to shop for one of those expensive squirrel-proof feeders. b bOhhhhhh, Mother Nature can be such a harsh task master. We stopped by Joes yesterday and squirreled away some auto supplies to do some work on the car ("Grey-one" as we like to refer to it). Joe and Simon had their mischievious way with Val and I, considering it was April fools. Simon told us one of the dogs in his Dads kennel died and when, we, were suitably shaken and moved, he and his Dad chortled "April fools". We were victimized....Which reminded me of the wee birdie