Local Wines

    
     charting my way through the night was more challenging than one would think at 3:30 in the morning.  the youngest princess had called on a device and pleaded for us to come and rescue her from her own illness and the affections of a cat.  i understood.  we shared the same allergy tendencies and the combination of horses, cats, hay, and tall grass was too much to bear.  no doubt a late night was had by all.  posing and unoing and all the clothing.  these girls were grown up.  understanding of the need for nutrition and water was lacking however, and the little one was paying the price.  when the call came in, the glow filled the bedroom.  who would be calling at this hour?  was our baby alright?  she claimed she was ill and that she needed to come home from the sleepover party.  despite initial thoughts of frustration, I awoke, dressed, jumped in my car, and took the long, narrow, and dark back roads to the raining grace ranch.  i carried a plastic bag, the kind that litter the land and oceans of this world, just in case a place to vomit was needed.  this could be bad.  she was ready when i arrived and the gate was opened as i remembered herchel walker and drew pearson.  the diminishing is a shame and undeserved.  she was ready when i pulled up.  packed up and tended to by the wonderful diva mother.  yes, when the cat licked her face, she was done.  compromise and alternatives were not considered.  in the car, on the long trip home, we talked and talked.  she seemed to feel better.  came home to an attending mother and watched the trampoline competition from london.  she slept into the next day, long after we returned from picking grapes and learning about how texas roots can be combined with spanish vines to create the sweet grapes of local wines.  it was a tremendous harvest.  on to the greens, with wet towels and plenty of water.
     the urge to play the hated game came on rapidly and without warning.  recently, i had found a card granting me comlpimentary golf at various courses around the area.  and the deadline was approaching.  knowing the value of such a good fortune, i devised a plan to play more golf.  my daughters were invited, but both declined.  would've taken my wife too, but her sanity was absolute as she declined the invitation from the 'crazy man'.  guess i couldn't blame them.  records for extreme heat had been set in recent days.  and this was texas, where heat records have been closely monitored, documented, and debated for centuries.  it was hot.  but i feared the slow, crowded golf course and felt playing in the heat of the day would be best for purposes of player avoidance.  truth was, i wanted to play alone.  tolerance for small talk and etiqette awarness was long ago abandoned and is considered an intrudance on the truly good things about golf.  peace and quite is sought.  only then could i resurrect and refine my trusty swing.  true, the rust had accumulated, but i knew the reason for bad shots.  putts too.  got to keep the hands ahead and your head back.  that's it.  it was hot, but shade was abundant and the play was fast.  a solo journey until meeting up with a fine father and son for the last three holes.  the lesser pace was welcomed by that point.  iced beer and a birdie on the card.  i would enjoy my golf resurgance.  the father was full of good advice and when i pared the final hole, his compliments meant something to me.  the son was going up east for college.  to become a doctor.  no doubt he would save lives.  his golf game was sure to get better because his fundamentals were good and he wasn't a hothead.  after 18th hole rituals we parted ways and i brought home a celebration feast to the family and marveled at my 44/41/85.  i felt loose, and satisfied.
     then the general called, the doctor was in town, the professer was coming too.  all were going to a cajun joint, gonna shake out the old man's blues.  hear that melody and pop you rap rat.  you got the cheap beat.  or something along those lines.  it was with my wife's blessing and encouragement, i sped into the night to meet old men and old friends with old eyes and old stomachs and old brains and old talks.  on the way i thought of golf and the peace found.  for hours.  the sauna-like effects of the heat were surely healthy and there was drinking too.  i pulled into the crawdaddy house and saw the sparkling lights and heard electronic music.