It’s a nice hot day so Ann and I spend some time lying on the deck before the heat builds up too much for me and I go down to the boat to make hummus. Yes, this may sound weird but Ann doesn’t have a blender and the one on Jeannius is not the right voltage to use at the house. I gather up a few more things to bring back while I am there.
Mike starts putting together the stuff that the accountant needs for our tax returns. He loves this job every year (not), and being away from all the paperwork makes it ten times harder. At least when he had to do it last year, he was back in the UK with access to all the necessary information.
Terry goes off to practise his golf swing but comes back a while later having had a bad afternoon which culminated in the deliberate breaking of one of his golf clubs across his leg in a fit of frustration. Apparently, his golfing prowess is taking a backwards turn. Once he’s calmed down a little, he goes back with Mike in tow to video his swing and work out what he is doing wrong. Mike proves to be a valuable asset and gives him a few tips, earning him the new position of life golf coach.
Unfortunately, just being there on the beautiful course at Simola reminds Mike just how much he misses golf. He tries to hold a club but with his arthritic fingers, he just can’t grip it properly, and even trying hurts.
In the early evening, Ann and I have a mad moment. Terry bought some new shorts this morning and I see them lying on the bed. I joke and slip them on, managing to get both my legs in the same leg hole. Giggling, I encourage Ann to stick her legs in the other side, and we shuffle up the hall, by this time nearly crying with laughter, still both modelling his new apparel. Poor Terry.
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