It’s been over a decade since I played my
last round of golf. Seven since I emptied a bucket of balls at the driving range.
So, I dusted off my clubs and walked to the field behind my sister's house to practice
my golf swing.
Besides being a bit rusty and digging too
many divots, I didn't last long out there because of the dog. Willow chased down
and chewed up the golf balls, returning the slobbery devils with more dimples
than they originally had.
Yes, I could have left her inside,
but I’ve missed being around this special pup. The job I started two weeks ago
leaves little time for playtime with my favorite canine.
after golf balls just might replace Willow’s ultimate pastime—catching Frisbees.
I walked across the soggy field while still wearing my
PJs. I’m sure this isn’t the last time I’ll be locked outside the house.
My sister keeps telling me people here in rural Maine don’t bolt their
doors. However, it’s not like I can erase decades of automatically locking a
door out of habit. That’s just what you do when living in a big city.
You might be wondering what led me outside to begin with. Well, earlier
this morning, I took my computer out to the front porch. My goal was to end this
writer’s block I’ve had for the last couple weeks. As my fingers hovered over
the keyboard, I prayed for something inspirational to write.
I’m not sure why I got up to go inside. All I know is when I grabbed the
doorknob it didn’t budge. This is the third time I’ve locked myself outside since
I moved here. So, I began the long trek to the neighbor’s house across the
field to get our spare key. She keeps it for us just in case.
The brown grass clippings I mowed last week littered the field and were soaked
from last night’s rain. I stopped to roll up my pant legs so they wouldn’t get
wet. Thankfully, a line of trees stood between me and the well-traveled country
lane. At least I didn’t have to walk that road in my pinstriped bottoms and mismatched
top. I’d hate to give the impression that people from Maine dress like this all
Shoot, when I was a kid I used to think true-blue Mainers wore yellow
rain gear all year long. The kind the fisherman on the Gorton's seafood package wears. I’ve yet to see anyone dressed like that guy. And I definitely
didn’t want someone seeing me in my sleepwear. I guess that’s just the city
girl in me.
You know what I just realized? My prayer for something to write about was
answered. God can use any topic He sees fit. Even one as simple as being locked
outside while wearing PJs.
it will be given to you…. For everyone who asks receives….” – Matthew 7:7-8