Golf and Gherkins

 

On Monday, I met a friend to play golf on a course I’ve played before – over half an hour away but worth it since they at least had tee times in the morning. Everything closer was booked, probably because like me, fellow golfers wanted to get in a few rounds before the dreaded heat dome arrived later in the week.

          I actually took this picture because the course’s landscapers had done some kind of weird cuts through the bark of several trees. My friend and I decided that perhaps the trees were doomed and this was to make cutting them down easier.

          We walked the 9 holes, now easily do-able for me since I’ve (Yay!) finally found golfing sandals with built in arches. A whole new shiny world. In the past, I’d had to slog through the last 7 holes with screaming knees and aching feet.

     

     Due to my natural sloth-like nature, I’d almost talked myself out of going, but yesterday I played three games of pickleball. If the gauge is not embarrassing myself or falling down, it was a roaring success.

      

    Once I got home, I figured since I was already sweaty, I’d water my small garden and
the plants outside our porch. Good thing I did, because somehow in the two days we were gone, the tiny cucumber that was – I swear – no bigger than the end of my pinky on Friday, had somehow exploded into a behemoth. Any more time on the vine and it might have attacked the neighbors.

Oh, and note my harvest of rhubarb, which ended up in a strawberry/rhubarb crisp that night. I managed to make it with only a tablespoon of honey in the fruit, but the oatmeal topping did have brown sugar. It was still pretty darn puckery.