The Return of the Muse and 20 Under Par

Well, I don’t know where it’s been hiding, but my muse finally decided to come back today. Thank goodness, because I was beginning to wonder if I needed to send out the search party. It may have had something to do with the ice cream and Mom’s home-made sour-cherry-rhubarb sauce that I’ve been tempting it with for the last four nights. I’m not sure. Just in case it did, I’m going to keep using that recipe to make certain it stays put for at least another week or so.

It was too hot today to do any weeding, so the Creeping Charlie, Goldenrod and Buttercups got another day of leisure in my garden beds, soaking up the sun and crowding out my lilies. Maybe tomorrow I’ll put an end to their garden bullying. Or not. It all depends on whether I get out of bed before the sun gets higher than the trees that surround my yard. You see, being an anxiety-riddled introverted manic-depressive has kept me indoors long enough that the five minutes I spent out on the deck today blowing the ants off the hummingbird feeder was just long enough to feel like I got third-degree burns on my pasty-white legs and arms (of course, I didn’t, but it sure felt like it at the time).  So if I am to actually get out there and do any sort of yard and garden work, I’ll have to do it when the section I want to work in is still shady. It’s a very scientific procedure that must be calculated and executed with timely precision. This means that if I miss my window of opportunity I’ll have to wait until the latter part of the day, when the sun has passed over to the other side of the house, to do the job. By then I’ll most likely have convinced myself that I have other more important things to do (like chase the crazy one-legged bird around the yard or knock the ants of the hummingbird feeder again). See. All very complicated.

So far I don’t think today’s blog makes any sense, which is perfectly alright. It doesn’t have to. That’s why it’s my blog. It’s meant to be a repository of things that happen to need removing from my head. Sometimes it will be things relating to a certain topic which will all correspond and come together to form a cohesive pattern, while other times, like today, it will be random nothings that make absolutely no sense in connection to each other whatsoever.

On another note, 27-year-old Jason Day won the PGA Championship in Wisconsin today. He is the first Australian golfer to win this trophy in 20 years. He’s the first golfer ever to win a major PGA tournament with a score of -20 under. This was his 10th ‘Top 10’ finish at a major tournament. He now ranks as the #3 golfer in the world. Watching the end of the game this evening was pretty monumental as he beat out the new #1 golfer in the world, Jordan Spieth, who ended two shots behind at second position. Now I’m not really a golf fan. I’m not even a golfer. I don’t play the game, unless you count mini-putt and even then you have to go easy on the terms of ‘play’ since with my lack of judgement it’s more like ‘hack and slash’ instead of ‘putt’. My Dad, however, is a dyed-in-the-wool, life-long, devoted fan and die-hard duffer. At 76 he still owns the 18-hole, 3-mile/6km Highlands Links Golf Course here at home and plays as often as three times a week (more when friends or family are visiting). I grew up having to watch golf every weekend on tv because I was outnumbered by him and my little brother (also a golf freak). Sunday is family dinner at the parent’s house, so that means watching golf with Dad. Tonight it was the PGA Championships and we cheered on young Jason Day to his record-breaking win. I may not be a golfer or a big fan of the game, I may not know all the names on the current leader board, but I love my Dad and spending time with him means sharing his passion. So way to go Jason! My Dad’s proud of you, and so am I.

Since none of this has anything to do with none of that, what does all of it have to do with this? Well, even though I didn’t really do any of the things I thought I was going to do when I first woke up today, it doesn’t matter. I had a good day. I wrote some poems that I’m satisfied with. I got outside for a little while and walked around on the deck to take in some vitamin D. I had a lovely dinner with my family and then joined my Dad as we cheered on a young man from Australia as he broke a few records. Does it matter that none of these things were on my ‘to do’ list? No. Does it matter that none of the things that needed to get done around the house got done? No. Does it matter that this blog has no central topic? No.

All that matters is that it was a good day. It was a day of sun, of smiling, of crazy mad writing, of deep breaths, fresh air, good food and cheering. A good day. And you want to know something really important? It was exactly the right kind of day I needed.

“The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us.” – Ashley Montagu

PS. Check out the six new poems including “Drive” and the microfiction “Flawed Angel” under the Poetry pages. 😀


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