Living La Vida Loca in Ballyfornia

There's been some grumbling amongst the expansive readership of this blog that it's perhaps a tad too golf-centric.  Now, at the risk of validating that complaint, I'll endeavor to provide some content unrelated to the great game of golf.  For those of you who come only for the golf, stay truned as regular programming will resume shortly.

First and of greatest importance, we've settling into our cottage nicely and are mostly pleased with our choice.  T is a bit disappointed with the lack of views of Pollan Bay, but the house is clean, mostly comfortable, reasonably well supplied and appropraitely sized for our needs.

Our favorite room is by far the sunroom, where we spend most of our cottage time.  It's where I sit and read with my morning coffee awaiting T's delicate footsteps on the floorboards above, and it's where we sit in the evening discussing the day past and the one ahead.

 

The sunroom and kitchen are where we spend most of our time when "home."

Our second night in the cottage we attempted to use the barbeque, but failed ignominiously when the coals didn't progress beyond grey smoke and the heavens opened up.  We quickly packed it up and went out for dinner and, fortified with some equipment enhancements, succeeded in our second try.

If at first you don't succeed, try a Carlsberg.

Another highlight of the week came Tuesday evening, when it was time to take our garbage to the curb, just like a real Ballyliffener/Ballyliffenite/Ballywhatever.

The lady of the manse takes care of disposal duty.  And we get to do it agin next Tueday with the recycling.

Our cottage is four houses in from the main drag, on a street that is not terrifically well maintained, though we're starting to warm to it.  One afternoon in driving towards the house we noticed a small cat, and backed up the car to peak.  There we saw the most wondrous sight, as a Mama cat picked up her kitty by the scruff of its neck and carried to safety from those invading Americans.

Well, I should have known at that point that the cat was out of the bag.... the next time we drove by that house we saw even more cats.

Finally meeting some of our neighbors.

That afternoon I went to the office (our name for the table in the club's second floor bar where I do my blogging), T walked to the local gas station mini-mart and purchased cat food, both wet and dry.

T laying the bait (top).  The first visit from Declan (bottom).

Declan was followed by Marion (top) and Vivien (bottom), named for waitresses at the clubhouse restaurant.  Watching the cats scale the high wooden fence is really quite amazing.

Theresa moved the bowl to the back yard and Declan paid us a return visit, but this time he angered the usually even tempered Theresa.

Declan helped himself to a bowl of wet food, much to our pleasure.  But then he felt compelled to mark his territory, including said bowl, which angered the bride.