...where The Preacher fished...and fished...
...and then we got hungry. So we went to a restaurant that was a mere walk away from where we were sitting. I had grits from heaven with my seafood.
And then the sun went down.
I think, for today, we are planning to just press "repeat". Without the golf part, though. The Preacher wasn't happy with his game. I was very happy. I was sitting in the golf cart, getting sun on my legs, taking in the gorgeous scenery...palm trees, lagoons, glimpses of ocean, birds singing like the garden of Eden. I was soaking in the early morning, listening to Francis Chan's book "Crazy Love" on Audible, via Kindle, watching my Preacher throw a golf club to the ground once in awhile. I didn't mind the club tossing, because once he walked back to the cart where I was, he always had his happy face back on. He was genuinely and touchingly thrilled to have me with him, for those hours. I think my presence was the problem, in fact. He was so content to have me with him, he didn't care so much about his game. But then, that other part of him that DID care about his game would rise up in frustration, only to be quickly pushed aside whenever I would smile at him, and talk like I knew how to play: "This one's a double dog leg, Babe. Placement is critical...I'd tee up to the left. You'll be downwind here, and the greens are narrow and fast." (Which was silly talk...but it kept him entertained.)
(Did you know that Kindle can "play" all your Audible.com books?)