Submitting to the siren call of the golf demons

It was cold again Tuesday morning but also sunny and gorgeous. We had breakfast and prepared for my golf day. I don’t know why I am so driven to play this game; I am absolutely no good and have reconciled myself to knowing I never will be. I do believe that I am driven because I think I can correct some of the stupid mistakes I make. Evelyn dropped me off and then went to walk around the lake before returning home to iron. I had changed some things in my swing and did better for a few holes but quickly returned to normal. I played alone and was finished the back 9 at 12:30, the time we agreed she should return to get me for lunch. Strangely enough, I was hitting my second shot on 18 when I saw her beautiful smiling face waiting for me. We came home and ate the lunch of leftovers she had heated and then lay down to rest for an hour. I dozed a bit and was refreshed enough to go finish the front 9, yearning for the punishment I knew the golf demons had in store for me. They did a good job. I lost more balls today than I have in quite a while as I proceeded to drop farther down the leader board. ( This is an golf joke.) We had agreed the pick up time to be between 4:30 and 5, but, to cause further discomfort, I finished a bit early and she arrived at 4:45. By this time it was getting chillier and windier. I had hoped to get a hot cup of coffee at the clubhouse, but they had dumped it. This is strange because during the hot summer coffee is available until after 6. Being of weak mind and yearning for punishment, when Evelyn came I was not finished. We had talked about driving to the mountain golf course where a cart and “play until dark” after 5 for $10 is the policy. I said, “Let’s go.” and she (overestimating my common sense and thinking I was joking) said, “I’m ready.” So we drove a couple of miles north of our house to play. It was cooler now even, and Evelyn had to put on her thick rain suit we had bought for South America in order to be warm enough to ride with me in the cart. The demons followed us to that course and began a fierce attack on my game. I could feel them pull my club up to insure that I would top the ball many times. I could see them blow hard on each putt so it would be short or veer off to one side of the cup or the other. Normally, they permit a good hole or 2 as a means of luring me back another day, but, unlike Evelyn, they didn’t overestimate my common sense and continued harassment until the very end. I did quit before the 9 were finished because It was cold and Evelyn was waiting in the car where she was seeking warmth. We came home, ate supper, relaxed a bit and went to bed early. I was a tired puppy and my left hand was very tired from holding the clubs.