That Other Gurl...

 Literally, somedays I don't know who I am talking to or living with inside of me. Who is that other gurl, I ask with a southern whang, and why are you so difficult to live with?

She has been acting much like a reluctant cave bear growly mopey and willing to go back to bed after every meal. She is not me. She has even been watching television in the evenings for several hours. Today, she woke up early, fixed her tea, sat back down on a comfy heating pad and watched the entire CBS Sunday Mornings. In one sitting. Now when has that ever happened?

I am literally Letty, who normally doesn't sit for long lengths of time, except to write. Even then I take breaks by leaving my water or iced tea in the kitchen. If that is not enough, I wear a Fitbit that goes beep beep beep if I don't move 250 steps in an hour! (I do ignore it from time to time.) 

That other gurl also walks on lazy feet, in other words, her feet don't want to get up and move. To be clear, this gurl is different from my 'evil twin' who occasionally shows up on the golf course. I have learned to let her play her game and accept her for the herky jerky player that she is. I have lived with her for decades and we have made peace. 

Today, the other gurl met her problem head on. That meeting is now posted on the refrigerator door to calm my spirit and revive that laughter within my soul. 

Sitting up, staring at his feet Snoopy says, "Now look here feet!  The rest of us wants to go jogging so let's get with it! 

nothing happened

ALL RIGHT FEET...ON YOUR FEET! Snoopy commands

nothing happened tee hee hee

That struck me with a lightning rod effect, and I picked up my feet and told the other gurl to go take a nap, because these feet were taking this body to exercise for at least thirty minutes. 

Who knew that one deep breath and a laugh out loud comic strip could cure a gurl with a cave bear mentality?

Thank you "Classic Peanuts" by Charles Schulz 

Moments like today and the week leading up to my cave bear mentality occur when the weather takes control leaving me feeling gray and grouchy. 

Thanks to Snoopy and the many other colorful cartoons, I pulled myself up and exercised today. Like magic I felt cleansed inside and out. The growly grumpy gurl was gone...I had exorcised her. 

Now I ask myself, "Why is that so hard to push myself to exercise when I know 100% of the time that I will feel better after a good workout?" 

**Don't google that one, or you will plunge down a rabbit hole deeper than the day is long....tee hee hee

"Be gentle with yourself. We are each doing the best we can."

P.S. After printing this I reread it and experienced another epiphany. (Two in one day.)  The word accept is the key for me to this aging process and to the gray days that have always been in my life. Perhaps I will write the word ACCEPT on my printer.  I write it on my golf balls and it helps me to accept the inevitable golf shots in my life. 

For another short story about Two Sisters Both with Curls click on this link. 

GOLF GYPSY--UP TO HER KNEES

 

"If your knees aren't dirty by the end of the day, you ought to seriously re-examine your life."  Bill Watterson

I ponder whether this quote is meant for gardeners or golfers.  I do, however, have a golfing friend who found out the hard way what it means to have your knees dirty by the end of the day. 

During a warm fall day, she (who will remain nameless) duck hooked her ball into a nearly dry pond on hole #8 at The Trails Golf Course. Normally, this pond is full of intimidating water, although I personally believe that the water table rises in the summer and spring because of all the golf balls that are covering the bottom of the water. 

Playing with her son and best friend, she was determined to hit the ball, lying 20 yards away, out of the drying sucking muck. Her first mistake was thinking she could even get to her ball. The muck showed prior footsteps that a dinosaur could have made squishy sticky and deep. 

Her first steps were down the embankment covered in grass and rocks, allowing her to sidestep any slippery slope. Her next few steps were sticky and slippery. Luckily, she carried her 8 iron with her for balance and to strike the ball. She took another few steps confidently getting deeper into the muck allowing her to walk and not lose her shoes.  She knew she could hit her ball out of the muck and onto the green grass near the hole. 

In the final approach to her ball, she began to tip from side to side while her friend and son looked on, already realizing that she might be in trouble. 

No one remembers whether she hit the ball or if she even reached the final destination. What they do recall is her sudden high-pitched scream heard 'round the golf course, "I can't move! My feet are stuck!" 

"Seriously," her friend called out, "pick up your feet slowly, one by one, and turn around."

"I can't," came the scream.  Like Tonto sinking in the quicksand, they watched as she mucked around shoeless and sinking deeper with each step. The Lone Ranger was not there to rescue her. What were her friends to do?

It was serious enough that no one bothered to take a picture. 

Her son grabbed his driver and slowly made his way towards his mother. Her friend took the arm of the son and a saving lifeline was created. However, it was noted that the people playing on the green on hole #7 watched and could not or did not choose to help. An imagined cartoon picture shows the on lookers laughing and pointing in disbelief.

At last, her son hollered, "Mom, this is serious. Forget your shoes and turn around and grab the driver." 

"But my hands are sticky, and I'll ruin your new club." She replied. "I can't balance myself enough to carry my club and reach."

"Mom, throw that club up on the bank after you take two steps toward me."

Whether in anger or fear, she took two sucking steps and threw the club out of the mud hole and past the golf cart to the middle of the fairway, and in the same action grabbed her son's club head and nearly fell face forward. 

With the strength of Sampson her son stood still and pulled slowly allowing his mother to take one small step at a time until the ground could hold her. 

Slowly methodically two people stepped backwards crawling out of the mud and muck, while the golfer stepped forward toward the shoreline. 

When all were safe on the dry fairway their laughter could not be contained. 

Her knees were dirty brown by the end of the day.

As she thought about her decision to hit the ball out of the mucky pond, she could only laugh. Those of us who witnessed the event or heard about it from others, who saw and heard the live action, won't forget the sight, and recognize that only a truly dedicated daredevil golfer would ever attempt that shot and we love her for that reason. 

**For images of Bill Watterson quotes click on this link Calvin and Hobbs