Sunday, Boring Sunday

My feet never even left Doright Manor yesterday. I slept in until 9 a.m., had a Kind breakfast bar and a cup of coffee with Irish cream while simultaneously watching MASH reruns and reading The Dark Tower VII. I think I even took a nap. The morning just flowed over and around me like a lazy river.

Studly Doright played golf on Sunday morning after being sidelined for over a month by sciatic pain and returned home in time to enjoy watching the final round of the Masters golf tournament with me. I’m not a golfer, but I grew up watching tournaments on tv with my dad, and watching the Masters is akin to seeing a painting come to life in real time. The beautiful course at Augusta testing the skills of the best players in the world is always a thrill.

Now we plan to spend the evening catching up on The Walking Dead. I’ll drink a glass of wine, or two. Then it’s off to bed. Maybe I’ll be less boring tomorrow.

Peace, people.

Sort of a Review: “Hostiles”

Rain interfered with Studly Doright’s Sunday golf game, so he took me to brunch at Southwood Golf Club where Chef Mike makes the world’s greatest egg white omelette. Mine was a fluffy concoction of bacon, onion, tomato, and cheddar cheese that was so light it appeared to float above my plate. Okay, maybe the mimosa I ordered was responsible for the special effects, but it was a stellar meal.

Afterwards we went to see the film Hostiles starring Christian Bale and Rosamund Pike. Ten minutes into the film I turned to Studly and asked, “What in the world have you brought me to see?” The beginning is so brutal I thought I was going to need to leave. But I stayed, and while violence is a main theme of the film, a storyline did develop.

Christian Bale is intense as an Army captain charged with escorting Chief Yellowhawk, played by Wes Studi, and his family to Montana from New Mexico where they’ll be set free after seven years in captivity. Along the way the small band of soldiers and Native Americans face one trial after another, including their encounter with Ms. Pike’s character.

Studly joked on the way home that he wondered if there had been more than four pages of dialogue for the entire film. I told him there was, but it was uttered in such a mumbling fashion that at least two pages could be discounted.

What is it with actors mumbling dialogue? One bearded character was so difficult to understand that I tuned out all of his dialogue. At least let me read his lips, for pity’s sake. If I were grading Hostiles I’d deduct ten points just for the mumbling.

The story was okay. There was nothing new here, as far as I could tell, but I did appreciate the way Bale’s character evolved. The scenery was beautiful and the film felt real. Just don’t go see it if you’re at all squeamish!

Peace, people!

Stretching Like an Athlete

Athletics were never my thing. As a card carrying klutz, I’ve shied away from anything requiring physical prowess for most of my life. Oh, there was a brief period during which I played racquetball, but even then I managed to hit myself in the face with the racquet on more than one occasion. I tried golf, but was soon spending considerably more on chiropractic treatment than on greens fees.

As a result, I kind of gave up on doing any activity that was physically demanding. I have tons of other excuses: a disdain for gyms, a dislike of workout classes, an allergic reaction to sweat….You get the picture.

Now, at 61, my body is telling me I should have done something to keep myself fit. My hips hurt, my back aches, and my arms are flabby wonders that wag even when I try to get them to play dead. I feel like a bag of lumpy gravy.

I see a chiropractor, Dr. Verrier, on a regular basis. He’s helped me a great deal. Before I began regular treatments with him I couldn’t walk without significant pain. He’s worked wonders, but I still had some issues with my hips that keep me awake at night.

Then Studly Doright suggested I also see someone at a Tallahassee business called Stretching Your Life. One of his golf buddies recommended the business and Studly wanted me to check it out.

Stretching Your Life is owned by kinesiologists who teach their clients to stretch like athletes. They’ll even spend an entire hour stretching you! I’ve had two sessions of intense stretching and am amazed at what I’ve missed out on all these non-athletic years. I still have a long way to go, but my kinesiologist, Jen, is upbeat about getting me to a healthier place in my life.

Here’s a link to Stretching Your Life. Their website alone has a great deal of helpful information along with exercises to do at home. (I receive no compensation for sharing this information, by the way, but I wanted to spread the word.)

https://g.co/kgs/Fbs46h

I’ll give updates on my progress with the stretching. Hopefully I can work out some of these kinks that have begun to feel like the norm. I don’t mind being 61, but I do mind feeling like I’m 91.

Peace, people.

Our Christmas Letter

Studly Doright and I were too lazy to send out our annual Christmas letter this year (and the year before, and the year before that), but after receiving the twelfth such letter from various friends and family members I began feeling guilty. Without such a missive how will anyone know what an absolutely awesome year Studly and I had? Fortunately I have this forum, so with just a bit of exaggeration, here is our offering:

“Doright Year in Review”

Dear Friends,

It’s that time of year again when we regale all of you with our adventures great and small, but let’s face it, the Dorights only have great adventures. All others are swept under the rug.

In January we moaned about temperatures dropping into the 50’s. My tan faded and Studly had to wear long pants to play golf. It was devastating.

February brought more of the same, but Valentine’s Day broke up the monotony. Studly made it special by purchasing a 10-karat diamond necklace for me to wear to the grocery store. It pairs well with the mink he bought me for Christmas last year.

In March the temperatures began creeping into the tolerable zone. I spent a great deal of time at our beach house while Studly made a killing on the stock market and switched to shorts on the golf course. He shot a 69 on his home course and recorded two holes in one. The PGA contacted him about joining the senior tour, but he declined, saying it wouldn’t be fair to all the other golfers. What a mensch!

April and May were memorable for their showers and flowers. I entered the annual garden show with an orchid I discovered on my last trip to South America. The National Society of Horticulturalists have named it the Nana Glorious in my honor. My entry took first, second, and third place honors at the event.

We spent June, July, and August abroad. While Studly golfed in Scotland and Ireland, I explored quaint mountain villages throughout Europe and discovered yet another rare flower. Being the generous soul that I am, I pointed it out to a local woman who will go on to win multiple accolades for her contribution to botanical studies. Studly isn’t the only mensch in our family.

September was quiet as we recovered from our travels. Studly worked a bit, as his sharp mind and quick wit are in great demand. I was approached with a multi-million dollar deal to publish my memoirs. I just laughed and said, “Darlings, I haven’t even begun living yet!”

In October I traveled to visit our five precocious grandchildren. Fortunately they all take after me and will be outrageously successful.

November brought us together with most of Studly’s family. We celebrated his 60th birthday with a small concert. Sting said it was the best event he ever performed at, and asked if he could join us for Christmas this year.

So here we sit, Sting, Studly, and I, sipping spiced rum around a massive Christmas tree in the grand salon of our cabin in the Rockies. Sting keeps wanting to sing, but Studly says, “Enough, man. Let’s enjoy a Silent Night.”

We hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Last Call

The golfers played Lahinch on Thursday while the women explored The Burren, a wildly surrealistic landscape dotted with an abundance of limestone outcroppings. I celebrated surviving the journey into the natural beauty of Ireland with an O’Hara’s pale ale at a pub in Ballyvaughn. 

This was a terrific beer with a bit of a bite, and I enjoyed every drop. It was a fine beer to enjoy on my last full day in Ireland.


One final toast:

May the good Lord take a liking to you…but not too soon.

Scenes from Old Head Golf Club

Studly Doright and his golf buddies played the beautiful course at Old Head on Sunday, not far from where the Lusitania was sunk off the coast of Ireland in 1915, having been torpedoed by  German forces. 

The course, according to Studly, featured an abundance of hazards and a flair for the dramatic. All along the fairways signs advised players to abandon any balls that fell too close to the cliffs lest players find themselves tumbling down the rocks into the Atlantic. I’m pleased to report that all eight men returned safely to the clubhouse. 

Lighthouse at Old Head


That’s Studly bringing up the rear. He shot an 81 on this challenging course.


We call ourselves Eight Mire Mná which roughly translates to Eight Great Women.

Ireland on the Horizon

I’ve been planning for our trip to Ireland since the day Studly Doright brought home an informational packet and dropped it in my lap several months ago. He’d told me that our trip to Scotland, four years ago, was probably the last time the wives would be invited on a golf trip, so I was shocked and pleased at the prospect of another European vacation.

Like all looming vacations, this one felt so very far away until all of a sudden it’s staring us right in the face. In just a week we’ll be winging our way over the Atlantic to the city of Shannon, where we’ll meet up with the rest of Studly’s golfing buddies from Great Bend, Kansas, for an eight day adventure. 

I know there are wonderfully unique sights and sounds and experiences waiting for us, and I’m looking forward to every single minute. If I don’t post for a few days, starting on the 21st, just know I’ll be engaged in discovering the wonders of the fabled Emerald Isle. 

Keep us in your thoughts as we travel. I’m kind of absent minded and will appreciate all the good vibes my friends send my way. Thanks!

Peace, people!