Four of us ladies were intent on playing at least a little this past Wednesday as it was such a beautiful spring day. The other three planned to play only nine to return home in advance of the Mardi Gras parades. When we played number seven, some out of town guests nearly wrecked their cart (clumsily) flirting with our youngest player. While cutting up on the next tee over the hilarity I teed up and launched off a pretty nice PW to a back pin (about 100 yards). Everyone was convinced it hopped and rolled into the hole. Not I (I rarely can see where the ball lands and that encourages straight shots!) - I pulled my SW and putter out just in case they were wrong. But there it was sitting in the cup - greatly relieved that my pretty nice shot was really a perfect shot and as a bonus that I avoided putting on at least one hole as my stroke has been "off". As a deminstration of how special a game it is one of my friends volunteered to finish out the round with me to make it "official". I played as a child and two years in college before Title IX. After a 30 year break I started up again. Now as a very recent retiree I can spend more time with others who love the game as much as I do.