I walked into two of my short stories last night (Alone, Casa Musica). The setting was the same and the same main character strode across the stage before playing his music. It was a bit strange feeling as I felt I knew the man, yet I didn't, I only knew the life that I had given him when I wrote the story. It was strangely satisfying to see him still living the ending that I had given him.
When we were driving home, I swear to G*d that we drove right through hillbilly land. We had to brake for a travel trailer (you know, the kind you see at campgrounds) being backed into a driveway. What is strange about that you ask? The trailer had a peaked and shingled roof just like a house. Hillbilly style!
Sunday afternoon my brother and his kids came 'out to the country' for lunch and a walk in the fields. They brought their archery stuff to practice with - I got a few tries and expertly hit the ground. It was fun though, and if I were inclined to take up a shooting sport it would be archery. The dogs were safely tucked into the house while that activity took place, but then we all went for a walk through the wet fields - with our coats off!
Those of you with golfers in the family know that it was the 'Masters' weekend. The golf course in Augusta, Georgia was abloom with rhododendrons, azaleas and other flowering trees. Stunning. We watched most of it on the PVR in the evenings as real life interfered. Sunday night we got home late and watched the last round while we were tucked in bed. I am sickened to say that I recognize many of the golfers by their stance over the putter or set of their shoulder as they walk down the fairway. Over the years with Carm I've come to enjoy the quiet competition and find it mentally soothing. (I can't believe I admitted that out loud!!!)
Success in golf depends less on strength of body than upon strength of mind and character. ~Arnold Palmer