Final Preparation and Random Musings

We're down to our final hours before heading to Newark Airport, after which the vast global readership (Hey, I got a page-view from Germany - go figure) should anticipate some period of radio silence.  Assuming United Airlines performs to spec, we should hit Ballyliffin midday Saturday.  Based on a favorable weather forecast and needing to stay awake, we intend to go play nine holes in the afternoon and, with no Internet in our cottage, I'm not sure when I'll be back online.

I've already received some terrifically kind feedback on these musings, and I remain eternally grateful for everyone's demonstrably low standards.  But I've also received several requests for more pictures, which I'll accommodate to the best of my ability.

Theresa makes her way up a fairway on the outbound nine of the Glashedy Links with her caddy.

We don't remember the name of Theresa's caddy in the photos above and below.  I frequently write them on our scorecards for posterity, but I don't have that day's cards likely because they disintegrated from the rain and hail.  He was a skilled footballer who had unfortunately suffered a serious knee injury, but a delightful young man, a great caddy and, from personal knowledge, quite competent with the needle.

Theresa and her caddy, before the weather turned hostile.  I played badly that day and he greatly amused himself (and me) with his smack talk.  We'll show this photo to someone at the club to see what's become of him.

 We don't expect to use caddies on this trip, as the plan is to go native.  But that's an aspect of our matches that I neglected to mention in the prior post, in that they invariably become part of the action.  Most of the readers will already know that Theresa is one of life's genuinely friendly, open and likeable people.  As for myself, did I mention how much people like my wife?  The reader can connect the dots and readily appreciate for whom the caddies will inevitably root in our silly little matches.  To express in sports patois, I know going in that each match is likely to be an away game.

Your humble blogger tees off on what I believe is the 14th on the Glashedy Links.  As you can see, Glashedy Island is more appropriately thought of as Glashedy Rock.  We take lots of action photos on Par 3's, just in case one finds its way into the jar.  

While the positive feedback has been touching, I do have one curious reaction to report from a longtime friend of Theresa.  In order to promote a free and open exchange of ideas, I think it's important to safeguard the identity of readers offering controversial opinions.  Therefore in order to protect this reader's privacy we'll simply refer to her here as Gia Forakis.  Gia, who it should be noted is not a golfer, found certain turns of phrase such as "friendly matches", "match play skills" and "handicap" to be inappropriately erotic in nature.  Ahhhh, if only...  To be truthful, it's not clear that at my age I've got the energy level to live up to Gia's imagination, but we're flattered nonetheless.

More local scenery from the golf course looking inland towards the village. 

One final amusing (Editor: We'll be the judge of that!) anecdote, before final decisions must be made.  It's Lady Captain's Day at our kinda, sorta home club, a big deal with a competition during the day, as well as a dinner and live music thereafter.  They had been good enough to previously suggest that we stop by for the music as an opportune time to meet folks.  I finally called this morning  to ask what the timing was, and my new friend Trish told me the band would crank up around 10:00.  I hear the laughter of the readers that know full well that I've barely made it to 10:00 p.m. at home since the Carter administration, much less first day in country with only airplane sleep.  

I mention this mostly to further postpone those final packing decisions, but because I also booked us a time to play tomorrow afternoon.  For a number of reasons, including earlier access to the cottage and a good weather forecast, we decided to play maybe nine holes or so at 3:00 or 3:30.  Trish told me they had slot at "half-three, " which I grabbed.  A half hour later, it occurred to me that "half-three" might, in fact, be 2:30.  Theresa did some googling, and the results indicated that in Germany half-three would be 2:30 (perhaps my German reader will confirm this in the comments), but that in English speaking countries it denotes 3:30.  I guess we'll soon know, but it confirms what I've always thought about Ireland and Scotland, that we're separated by a common language.

That brings our pre-departure time together to a close.  Theresa and I greatly appreciate everyone tagging along electronically, and please feel free to continue to respond via e-mail or in the comments below.  We'll see you all from the other side of the pond.