I am going golfing this weekend. One last hurrah with a college buddy before I put away the clubs for the year. It is now huntin' season, with seasons for various species now open or opening soon. As usual, I am not prepared, not having enough shotgun shells loading, nor deer loads perfected, nor bow sighted in and practiced, etc. But if the lawn will stop forcing me to mow thrice weekly and I get my potatoes dug, I still have some time to get ready.
My suspicions were confirmed. My wife stayed down there all day and half the night, to get Ty's autograph. She did finally get it, at least that is what she claims it is. I could not discern anything in the scribbling on the paper that she showed me. So she stood around all day, and came home footsore, hungry, and thirsty, just to see Ty. Luckily, he wasn't too friendly, or this might have ended up like a country song. He came down the line, signing stuff, not saying anything, and when he saw my wife, he said "hey how ya doing?" or something like that. That's right, the only one he spoke to was my wife. I knew that I should be worried. Fortunately, she was too starstruck and weak in the knees to jump the barricade. So she came home, we met for supper at Applebees. Marital bliss resumes. I think I may have to ban that show on the premises though.
Today I will be passing by the Cabelas store, so I am pondering a shopping list. If I don't go in with a list, I might go nuts and could come out with maxed out credit cards. Self control is tough in such a place.
Everyone say a prayer for Jeff. I wish him a speedy recovery.