Unplayable

 With apologies to all my fanatical duffer friends, I was reminded again why I believe golf is essentially unplayable.  In addition  to -- or perhaps because of -- my contention that the ball is too small and the club too long, rendering it basically unhittable, there are other mysteries to the game.  

Reading the brilliant Cathal Kelly's take on the Masters, I came across this:

I mean, poor Connors.  When top golfers do nothing except play for big money all the time and still flub it, what hope does anyone have?!  Saw a great cartoon today with pictures of devices used by diviners to find water.  The last one was a shot of a golf club and a ball.  But maybe it's all about the 19th hole?  That would make sense. 

When we lived in Ottawa, we were social members of the Royal Ottawa, which meant B could play the back nine twice a week while I sat on the beautiful patio anytime I wanted, drank wine in normal clothes and cute sandals and golfer-watched.  That hugely less-expensive deal than a regular membership made perfect sense.  I was not a "golf widow" and B got to hit a few balls twice a week.  I rest my case.