"FORE!"

Ahhhh, the "lazy days of summer."
Presumably, a time of rest, relaxation, juicy slices of watermelon and cold glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. But it's proving to be less lazy and more busy around here lately (courtesy of an overzealous mom who maybe,...might...could have registered her kids a bit on the hairy side of a summer schedule, kwim?)

For starters, we've been dealing with a good month of torrential rains (the local dam broke two days ago, for example). Oh, and blazing hot days of mega humidity too. So very humid, in fact, that I might as well have been living in Miami, FL. We've done our best to keep up our family walks in the stagnant humid air, but it hasn't been without consequence.

The other night, for example, Carl asked if my hands felt swollen as we trudged along the walking path. I confirmed that indeed they did feel uncomfortable. Carl lifted his hands chest high then rotated them to reveal his palms, which amazed and shocked us both. They looked more like a lion's paws. I quickly checked mine and discovered the same. Carl immediately laughed at our disfigurement and declared that we had "Mickey Mouse hands." Indeed, we did.


The thing is, I really do prefer the heat. It's just that I'm not used to the dog days of summer arriving in June, instead of August like they did back home in northern Ohio. Fortunately for the kids' sake, they had swimming lessons every day this past week and will continue next week too. I know they're enjoying the chance to cool off, even if it is an indoor pool.

But we've also had to face the outdoor heat daily this past week, as Reece had golf camp each evening for 90 minutes. As Jack Nicklaus used to say, "It was hotter than a cast iron commode in middle of the Sahara." (Actually, I'm not 100% sure it was he who said it, but if he didn't, he should have, if only for the kiddie golfers' sakes.)

In spite of the blazing sun and waterlogged heat, I knew the kids were in for some major fun the moment Reece checked in for his first day of camp. It was run by three young coaches from Skyhawk camps, and their enthusiasm and organization immediately impressed me.

But then came the names.
"My name is Coach Fergie. Can we all say, 'Hi, Coach Fergie'?"
("Hi, Coach Fergie.)
"And my name is Coach Hollywood. Can we all say, 'Hi, Coach Hollywood'?"
("Coach Hollywood?"...giggle, giggle...."Is that your real name?")
"And my name is Coach Juicebox. Can we all say, 'Hi, Coach Juicbox'?"

Apparently not.

At least not until the fits of giggles and laughter subsided in the 20 junior campers that ranged in age from 4 to 9 years.
Seriously, could you have said, "Hi, Coach Juicbox," without a giggle?
Me either.

Reece was soooo excited about this camp. He had been asking me to sign him up for golf for several years and I couldn't find anything suitable for him. He has some developmental challenges that impact his concentration and coordination. So I wasn't sure golf would be a good idea. But it has turned out to be a great idea, at least where this particular camp was concerned. The kids played with oversized training clubs, and balls that were basically tennis balls. But instruction was not compromised by the training equipment. In fact, it enhanced it as they worked on chipping, driving, and putting.

And he had a blast. When he wasn't Ferdinand, that is.

Take today, for instance. He was just about to drive when he suddenly dropped his club and wandered away in a most care-free manner, a lighthearted expression of content on his sweet face, as he gently exclaimed , "Awwww, dragonfly."
Sigh. My little Ferdinand.

Of course, there were the moments that weren't so magical. Like yesterday when the kids were taking a water break. They had been instructed earlier in the week to leave the equipment alone when it wasn't their turn to practice a skill with their instructor (Coach Juicebox in our case.) I was resting in my lawnchair in the shade, devouring my copy of A Charlotte Mason Companion , when I heard Reece's voice sounding much more devious, like Scut Farkus in A Christmas Story.
He was issuing a self-challenge for his captivated peewee audience of three.
His words? "This ball," (dramatic pause) "in that hole."
After which he immediately hurled his tennis ball oversized golf ball toward the basketball hoop.
My Ferdinand. Officially on the coach's list (yes, that list, uh hem).

I believe Reece scored discolored marks on her "list" too when he took a swing at his ball time and time again, only to miss and immediately exclaim, "That didn't count."
Oh sure, she was gracious and let him take a mulligan and a do-over.
But after the 36th time (or so, I lost count), I think it might have wore on her a bit, what with her declaring, "I'll let you take this last do-over but after that, every swing counts, kapeesh?"

In spite of the little aforementioned quirks that set his golf camp experience slightly askew, Reece was definitely 100% thrilled to be there. In fact, he insisted on wearing his white sports glove every single day. The only kid who wore one. He forgot it in the van this evening and vehemently insisted I retrieve it for him. As I looked at him sporting that glove, I couldn't help but picture Ted Knight in Caddyshack. Nor get the Kenny Loggins song, "I'm Alright," out of my head.


Reece might never become a Jack Nicklaus. Heck, he might not even become a local caddy. But he has now lived one of his childhood dreams of going to golf camp. His dad and I sat there evening after evening and encouraged his efforts, cheering him on and rejoicing with him when he beamed with pride. Don't you think there's great truth in the saying, "The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination.”
(Don Williams, Jr.,American Novelist and Poet, b.1968)
What a blessing it has been to see Reece enjoying this small "twist and turn" on his life's journey.
Life is filled with so many such blessings.
Glass half full.
Eyes wide open so you don't miss them, ya hear? ;)

John 1:16 From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.

Toni