We Pause To Remember On This...

                <Memorial Day>      

It is well said that only two forces have ever offered to die for us:

Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and the American Soldier.

Jesus died to save our souls; American soldiers, to secure our freedoms.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

  - John 15:13

Never forget.  Always give thanks.

There's an old saying that opines if you <eat a frog> in the morning, the rest of the day's problems will seem like a piece of cake by comparison.

In this case "the frog" is your favorite subject...

...hickory golf.

There's really nothing for it but to get it out of the way so we can get on with life.

And since you asked, 'twas a chilly but enjoyable stroll through the countryside this week.

Not particularly successful, however, as I went down to defeat at the merciless hands of Mr. Links, 3 and 2 (that means I was down 3 holes with only 2 left to play, so my cause was lost).

Earlier in the week I finally gave up on my unhittable lofting iron and replaced it with a baffy...

30* loft

...which I really like, but definitely don't have the range yet.

Oddly, not so long ago I was hitting nothing but irons...

...but with this change I'm now carrying nothing but woods:

left to right: long spoon, short spoon, brassie, baffy, putter

Go figger.

Made for the short game, I was hitting my baffy on the right line, just too far.

Several times I hit over the greens; a score killer.

Unlike modern golf with a different club for every 10 yards, in hickory golf we use the same clubs for wider ranges based on how we hit them: hard, medium, easy.

And I definitely haven't zoned in on my baffy yet.

But overall I'm improving a bit as I continue studying and practicing both the mindset and methods of the great Harry Vardon.

Most of all I'm enjoying it since I'm usually playing golf now instead of hunting for lost balls in the hinterlands.

Just wait 'til next week.

No doubt you've heard about Jake "The Fake" Tapper's new autobiography, Original Sin.

In it he confesses that he and all his fake news pals ran cover for the cognitively impaired Biden and his amoral handlers - aka <The Politburo> -  constantly lying to the public as the democrats willfully drove America into the ground.

What's that you say?

His book is not an autobiography?

Instead of confessing his obvious guilt, he maintains his innocence, pretending he wasn't an active participant in the coverup?

And he continues lying about his complicity so he can make a boatload of money with his BS revisionist claptrap?

 

Hmm...I guess that's the morally bankrupt left for ya.

While the rest of the country and the world at large knew exactly what was happening...

...Jake The Fake and his fellow charlatans were busy performing <la danse de la tromperie> in their cute little tutus.

Aren't they ridiculous.

And irrelevant.

As Groucho famously asked:

"Who are you going to believe?  Me, or your own eyes?"

Stick it in your ear, Jake.

Legacy media is officially dead, poisoned by its terminal addiction to corruption and dishonesty.

Good riddance.

Time to 23 Skidoo...

hardscape coming to life

lower patio garden

snowballs in May...

...and a birdie nesting amongst the snowballs

lakeside view from Larry's cottage...

...and minnie the moocher outside his window

my 1st green after last week's storms...

...now resurfaced

Karen and I planting a fir tree the summer we moved in...

...and our little tree, 8 summers later

I'm not positive how "they" know this, but supposedly we speak about 16,000 words per day.

Even if they're only half right, that's still a whole lotta tongue wagging.

Did you know you're going to give an account for every idle, careless, empty word you've spoken?

Not a few.  Not some of them.

Every. Single. One.

"But I say unto you, that every idle word men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment."

Jesus said that, and you can read it in Matthew 12:36.

I don't know about you, but that makes me want to zip my lip, because I've said way too many careless things in my day.

That's why one of my daily prayers comes straight from God's Word in the book of Psalms:

later, mcm fans...

James Comey...

...former FBI Director and future prison inmate if there's any justice in this world.

Unless you live under a rock, by now you're aware of inveterate liar and corrupt deep stater Comey's "8647" instagram post.

Since arrogance makes you stupid he's as dumb as they come, but even a terminal moron like Comey figured out threatening the life of the 47th president might not have been his best move.

So he deleted the original post and then concocted a lame story about how he had no idea "86" means "to kill, to assassinate".

Riiiight.

A professional in law enforcement has never heard the term "86" in reference to offing someone?

Never heard "80 miles out of town and 6 feet under"?

Never seen a rotary phone's dial where "8" is "T" and "6" is "O" for Take Out?

Comey was hoping everyone's as stupid - or at least as corrupt - as he is.

In the previous administration, wish granted, but not anymore.

That ship of fools was cast out to sea courtesy of a landslide Trump victory, and the adults are in charge now.

So Comey's already been contacted by the Secret Service and taken to Washington where he was interviewed about his online threat to the president's life.

Next step is for the U.S. Attorney for Washington, D.C. to decide if there's a case for prosecution here.

In the past at the Good Ol' Boys Club in the DC swamp, this would have elicited little more than a sardonic chuckle and quick dismissal: "nothing to see here folks, move along now".

But not today.

Meet the new U.S. Attorney for D.C.:

from Breitbart, May 16, 2025

This is what they mean when they say "the stars have aligned".

"Judge Jeanine" will take a very serious look at Comey's call to assassinate the president in the context of his key role in the corrupt Russian Collusion hoax and his long and vocal history of hatred for President Trump.

If all goes well, they're going to need a size XXL orange jumpsuit to fit this 6'8” clown, but he should have a shot at playing center for the prison basketball team.

This is a slice of karma millions of conservatives would love to see.

Stay tuned.

The beautiful month of May bared her fangs and showed her dark side recently...

...with back to back nights of major thunderstorms and high winds that tore through west Michigan.

Downed trees and power lines comprised the fallout du jour, and there were even a few tornados reported (see the damage in the town of Martin, above).

Thankfully we were spared the worst of it; no trees came down and we did not lose power.

We do have a mess to clean up...

...all over our property, but nothing structural; just cosmetic.

Those storms ushered in a strong cold front, so today is 52 degrees with a 17 mph west wind gusting 32 mph.

Know what that means?  A wind chill of 38 degrees.

Welcome back, Winter.

Whoever infuriated May, apologize now and please - whatever you did - don't do it again.

This week's hickory golf outing put me in mind of my kids when they were playing Little League baseball.

As long as they had a good day at the plate, even if they didn't field well, they felt ok about the game.

This week I hit well from the tees and the fairways - decent distance, no foozled shots, no slices, no lost balls - and I walked off the course feeling pretty good about my round.

This, in spite of the fact I didn't score well: no pars, 6 bogeys, 3 double bogeys.

And here's the reason:

My lofting iron; the only iron I carry.

They say it's a poor workman who blames his tools, and I'm definitely a poor workman when it comes to my lofting iron.

In pre-1900 golf, clubs were mostly woods; irons were the exceptions, and specialized ones at that.

They had rutting irons, for hitting your ball out of wagon ruts, and lofting irons for getting your ball up in the air, often from difficult lies.

In my case I use it in sand traps and when I'm within 50 or 60 yards of the green.

This week I avoided sand traps, but had several times near the green when I reached for my lofting iron, and almost every time instantly regretted it.

Very tempting to swap it out for my mashie, but that would be cheating, so guess what I'm going to work on this week?

Widdout foida adoo, let's 23 Skidoo:

can't imagine how they actually play golf under these conditions: hundreds of spectators all around, cameramen in front and behind within spitting distance, always waiting on every shot for players ahead of you while more competitors wait behind you.

 a terrapin searching for his ball.  hint: it's behind you, terp.

spirea's in bloom

Karen's flower fountain coming together

Sadly, I and all the helpful staff here at the AMC...

...needs must bid you a fond farewell.

We trust your stay, whether voluntary or otherwise, was filled with life altering memories you simply can't get out of your head, no matter how loudly you scream.

And while we're on the subject of wisdom...

"He that hath knowledge spareth his words: and a man of understanding is of an excellent spirit."

     - Proverbs 17:27

later, mcm fans...

It's Official:

...summer hath returned...

...to the Castle Frankenstein.

April is usually an overwhelming start to the outdoor season.

Uncertain weather and the chaos that Old Man Winter inflicts on the premises...

...makes summer seem like a distant dream buried under a massive cleanup workload.

But consistent effort coupled with patient endurance eventually wins the day, and once the pool is open...

...let summer begin!

This year Larry beat us to the punch by a week, opening his cottage the first weekend in May.

An old friend stopped by to say hello:

Ok, not that old and probably wondering who the heck was interrupting her peaceful stroll along the lake shore.

as Larry noted, the line of clouds resemble snowcapped mountains in the distance.

peaceful evening view of the still waters

Gotta love summer "up north".

It's already the 4th week of my hickory golf season...

my pre-1900 hickory playset: long spoon, short spoon, brassie, lofting iron, putter.

...and it feels like it's flying by.

Bright sunshine but cold start to the day: high 30's and frost on the greens, so switched my tee time from 8 am to 8:30.

Gotta give a tip o' the hat to Mr. V...

...as once again he helped me keep it in the fairways.

Most satisfying shot of the day?

My drive from the first tee, but only because of the circumstances under which it happened.

A twosome was already in process of teeing off when I arrived - their 8:20 tee time got pushed almost into mine due to the frost - so I stood back a ways to give them some space and not crowd them.

He sliced his first attempt into the woods, then teed up a mulligan.

That's when she stepped in and began micromanaging the process.

"No, like this," she interjected as he prepared to swing away the second time.

Feet about shoulder width apart, ball toward the front not the back of your stance, grip more like this so the clubhead meets the ball flush.

You don't want to slice again, do you?

He complained as she poked and prodded but allowed her to position him while listening to her critiques of his several practice swings.

Eventually she stood back, giving him the green light; he topped his mulligan and we all watched it dribble 30 yards ahead.

That's when she turned to me and suggested I play through.

Now it was my turn to be up on stage, and they stood there studying me and my hickories as I teed it up.

I tried to forget about my audience, focusing instead on the task at hand, and by the grace of God managed a solid drive right down the middle of the fairway.

To say I was relieved doesn't begin to cover it, but I played it cool as if of course I expected a great tee shot, gathered up my hickory sticks, nodded politely and was on my way.

Not quite back to my "end of season" form from last year, but gaining on it:

4 pars, 3 bogeys and 2 unmentionables (but one of those just missed being a bogey when my 3 ft putt rimmed the cup).

Best of all I managed to par 7, 8 and 9 on my way out.

In the early season I play bogey or better wins the hole, double bogey or worse loses, so either I win or the evil Mr. Links does.

(Later in the season I'll change that to par wins, bogey halves - i.e., no score - double bogey loses.  Then it’s possible to tie.)

Under my current early season rules, today was a satisfying win for the good guy (i.e., me, and don’t look so shocked).

So from my perspective - at this moment - all is right with the world.

Sure hope you don't go messin' it up.

Your ordeal is almost over; but first it’s into the salt mines to 23 Skidoo...

our oriole is back this year, and he brought a couple of pals with him

they're going to eat us out of house and home, or at least oranges and grape jelly

Karen's daughters sent flowers - the semi-permanent kind - for Mom's day...much appreciated!

One Eyed Charlie got a refreshed paint job this year thanks to Karen's industrious spirit...

...and not only that, he also got a 2nd eyeball; but I'm still calling him One Eyed Charlie

another resurfaced green, and I've decided to do one more

no, not another view from Larry's cottage...that's a generic print from my dr's office...had my physical last week and liked that print well enough to take a pic

1st cigar from the newly opened command post this year

lilacs in bloom

like I said

Ever wonder what God really wants from you?

He took the time to put you here on planet earth, and He cares for you daily; every breath you draw, every morsel of food you ingest comes courtesy of His grace.

So what does He expect from you?

The Old Testament prophet Micah had something to say about that:

later, mcm fans...