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!

Snapshot #121

Studly Doright took the day off work today so he could get in a practice round of golf before a big multi-club championship this weekend. I accompanied him around town this morning and learned something important. That’s why I call this one, “So That’s How He Shaves Strokes Off His Game!”

Studly’s Big Birthday Adventure, Part 1

Saturday was Studly Doright’s 59th birthday. Having feasted to the overflow mark on Thanksgiving he wanted no special birthday foods and said he’d play a round of golf to celebrate the big day. I sang “Happy Birthday” as he headed to the golf course while he grinned. I have that effect on people.

When he arrived home after golf, though, he told me to pack an overnight bag. He’d bought some motorcycle parts online and we needed to pick them up. In Metairie, Louisiana, outside of New Orleans! I didn’t quibble and ten minutes later we were on the road. 

New Orleans is a five and a half hour drive from Doright Manor, and we made it to the seller’s home around 5:30 p.m. Studly was delighted with his bargain, so while he and the seller stood swapping motorcycle tales (a.k.a. “kicking tires and telling lies”) I booked us a hotel room in Metairie. 

After a nice light dinner at PF Chang’s we checked into our hotel and cheered on the Florida State Seminoles from the comfort of our bed. 

A birthday toast at PF Chang’s.

Knowing the New Orleans Saints were playing at home at noon on Sunday we planned to get up early and be well away from the area before game time. Studly had me find us a breakfast spot using Siri, and with only one little mixup we were soon seated at a table at Willa Jean, a top brunch spot in the central business district in downtown New Orleans.

I had beignets on my mind, but unfortunately they weren’t on the menu. But, oh my goodness! What a menu! Studly, who is a breakfast traditionalist, had biscuits and sausage gravy and proclaimed his meal to be perfect. I enjoyed grilled cornbread with a syrupy butter and a side of bacon. We both believe it was the best restaurant meal we’ve had in years. Check out their website: http://www.willajean.com


After we left Willa Jean, finding the interstate was a cinch. I snapped this photo of Louis Armstrong just standing on a corner:


Ok, so Satchmo was only there in statue form, but the city was waking up around him in preparation for the game.


Once on the interstate I took a few random shots. Whatever did I do before I had an iPhone?


I’ll finish up my piece tomorrow with photos of our visit to the USS Alabama. For a low-key birthday, we had a pretty grand time. Thanks for reading! 

Peace, people!