My dad came to visit after spending a week golfing in the heat of the valley of the sun. It's a straight shot from his home in western Montana down the highway to the desert where, in 115 degree heat, you can golf for a steal in the middle of summer. Five days of 18-36 holes a day, grubbing on Phoenician delectables and improving his game little by little.
His friend, Betty, accompanied him on the trip south. Handsome and I met Betty and her then husband, Bob, when we traveled to MT to introduce my future husband to his future in-laws. I liked Betty a lot. Apparently she is a great road warrior and obviously decent golfer.
They rolled in, road weary, about 9:00 on Saturday night. Showers for them both, blowing up the aero-bed, hugs all around and a 10:00 bed time cut the night short. Sunday morning was coffee and breakfast on the deck in the shade of the monster umbrella. A scorcher was on the way. Packed up everyone and their hats and sunscreen and off to pick up the youngest of our family line for a day watching America's favorite pasttime.
What a warm one it was! The 4th inning brought a cloud that seemed a worthy size and as it passed over the stadium, various sections cheered its arrival. We chugged gatorades and ate dippin dots and barely survived the loss to the opposing team. We moseyed over to our adoptive family's house for a pick-me-up dinner of bbq beef sammies and corn on the cob with a tossed salad. It was delicious and the company was delightful.
Exhaustion set in after a day in the sun and with company so after we got home, showers all around, last minute alarm clock checks and hugs all around with promises to say goodbye in the wee hours of the morning. 4:05 came after a night of tossing and turning but that coffee maker was ready for action. Hugs all around, tamales packed in the cooler, promises to visit again soon, for longer, and the van pulled away for a long drive back to the Bitterroots.
I glanced around thinking, "I mopped for that?"