How many misses are allowed?

I finished reading more than 600 blog posts yesterday evening in an attempt to get my life on track again.  The previous week was rather rough with me attending a (two full day) quilt course and having my own classes 2 more days and to top it all spent most of my Friday at the dentist.  Housework and all the other regulars fell along the wayside for a while.

With Spring in the air in the southern hemisphere I also had the urge to open everything up, clean and de-clutter but the mind often works faster than the body causing more tension and adding to my list of things I need to do.

So I made the decision to NOT quilt this week but do the important stuff.  However I have friends; stupid friends.... annoying friends...... bored friends and what did they think up this time?  We have to play in a golf day!!  I don’t do golf, in fact I don’t do much of anything outdoors unless you count sipping wine by the pool as an outdoor activity.

I tried hitting a golf ball many moons ago in a fun sports day DH’s business had and missed the stupid thing so badly I almost dislocated my arm.  I then realized that hitting that little ball with that little ‘batty’ stick is not as easy as the Tigers on TV make it look.  So I was not impressed with my friends at all and even though they all say they can’t play golf either and we’re just doing it for fun, I somehow have this gut feeling that they might just be lying to me.

So that is where my weekend, after the rough week went.  DH had to help me get to actually hit that stupid ball.  Shame, he was so patient but heck there are just so many things to remember – stance, grip, one arm straight, pendulum swing action, head down, focus on the direction of your hand and what not and................. then I still missed the blooming ball.

So with all the physical labour I had planned for myself, I started the week off with arms feeling like they belong to someone else.  I didn’t have a single muscle not aching, yet another stupid friend had no sympathy and I had to meet her early Monday morning for our daily walk, weights in hands as usual.

Back home I thought it couldn’t get any worse, so I started washing the carpets and with my house of pets, several sections demanded thorough elbow grease as the little carpet washing machine was no match to some of the stains left by the pets.

Dead tired, around noon, I sat back and actually got to read all my e-mails, haven’t responded to everyone yet but at least read all.  I needed a shower badly but then one of the mails was about the ridiculous golf day which plucked me back to reality and the shower was postponed for a little longer as I had to face this:

Yip, DH gave up, put this net up and told me to practise on my own.  So okay, I get to actually hit every 5^th ball and DH told me a miss is called a “freshie”.  So now I am just wondering.... how many “freshies” are allowed in a game of golf?

Second note to self:  You desperately need new friends!!