Where Does it Go?

"Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?"

         -Gordon Lightfoot

One might rewrite this to be: "When the greens turns the minutes to hours?"

Yes, one might also quote Heidi Klum, the great philosopher who states weekly, "One day you're up and the next you are down."

So I play last Friday and the game is so easy, I begin to think about what the next hobby might be.  I fire up the lathe and make sawdust out of  perfectly good wood and putter about.

But yesterday, while it was soggy, but I was in the mood to play, and I was not trying to test too many theories, it is as rough a round as I've had in years.

The back nine, where it is usually 7 pars and 2 bogies, now it is 2 pars and 7 others!  Yipes.  I'm back to topping drives and all sorts of other things long thought dead.

All of that didn't do my back much good either.  So I'm taking today off and trying to gobble as much ibuprofen as possible and try to get my body to recover.

Did I mention that I was at the range on Sunday and hit it like I knew what I was doing?  As if I were the master of my fate; as if all greens and traps were opportunities and not hazards?  Yes, just like that.

Well, it's a process and not a goal. 

Back to find the difference between range and course (if I figure it out, my fortune may be made.)