Walk the talk

Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left. Proverbs 4:26

When I went downstairs this morning there was no one down there. What’s up? Okay, no internet, so MaryLou has gone to the clubhouse with her computer. But where was Dave? There was a bit of coffee still in the pot, so I helped myself to that.

Dave came down the stairs. He was heading to the clubhouse, joining MaryLou for breakfast there. I decided to take a walk in the opposite direction, out to the front gate and down the highway to the Carl’s Junior about a kilometre down the road. While I sat there with my “breakfast burrito” and coffee I logged onto their wifi and sent out a few emails. On my walk back I stopped at the mini-super and picked up some essentials (bread and coke).

Back at the house MaryLou was getting ready to go into town on a shopping trip. Dave and I sat around doing crossword puzzles. Still no internet at the house, so I fired off a message to Mario, our landlord. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he replied. Yes, he would look after it. Time to pay the monthly internet bill, I guess. We had the same issue at the beginning of last month.

Just before two o’clock the 3rd red light on our modem started blinking. The internet was back on. Mario was already texting us, confirming the same. Dave and I were just on our way out the door, going for an afternoon round at the golf course.

The course had been very busy all morning, but at this time of day it was all ours. It wasn’t too hot, although it seemed humid to me. By now we know how to deal with this — we each have a frozen water bottle which becomes cold water as we walk around the course. Usually we can count on the beer cart somewhere on the back nine by which time our water is gone.

Dave was still fighting with his swing, alternating between long straight drives and losing an occasional ball in the bush on either side of the fairway. And I was still three-putting every hole.

It has been a unique and special time for Dave and me on this trip, one that I don’t take for granted. We’ve been out here for three or four hours almost every day, walking and talking and golfing. I golfed a lot at home last summer, often three days in a row, but nothing quite like this. Every day, the same course, the same golf partner, the same schtick. We don’t have to spend a lot of time wondering or discussing what we’re going to do today. We know. Simple. We’ll go golfing. Of course MaryLou has paid the price for that, which is no small thing. Sure, she’s kept herself busy with her computer, researching and writing. But I know she’s very much looking forward to next week, when she can have her Dave back, when she can get back into the routine of her busy life at home, when she doesn’t have me fussing and putzing around, getting in her way, and doesn’t have to listen to my smart-ass comments.

Me and Fernando, one of the many friendly staff at our golf course who know us by name and always greet us with a “Buenos Dias” and a smile.

After our round we went home, showered, had happy hour. Gin and tonics today because we’re out of hot sauce for our caesars. At around 6:30 we headed back to the clubhouse. We’ve actually never had supper there; I think we tried once, only to find that their kitchen was closed. Not so today. All three of us ordered pasta with shrimp, each with a different sauce. All good. Worth the walk.

Back at the house I tried to find the Jets game on our TV. No luck. Dave watched it on the iPad. MaryLou was exhausted from her shopping trip and went up to bed. I clicked around on the TV for a while, but I too was tired. Lots of walking today. I went upstairs and tried writing my journal. Nope. Internet was way too slow and I was running out of steam. I queued up another Bruce Cockburn album on my phone, put in my earbuds, and soon fell asleep.