Poor Andy

The third trimester for the school district just started yesterday. Andy seems to like his classes. His final semester in high school will be a bit on the easy side. He's got a computer networking class where the teacher told them, "You'll never have homework in this class, you'll probably have about 20 minutes of free time every day, and every Friday is make-up day." I sure hope Andy doesn't strain himself in that one.

The last class of the day is golf. This will be Andy's 3rd year on the varsity golf team. Andy's been a golfer since he was about 4 years old when he swung the club at a ball on our front lawn and broke a 2nd story window in our house. A couple of years ago he came up to me and said, very seriously, "I've been thinking about golf. Golf isn't like work, and it's not like play either. Golf is life."

I'm glad he loves it so much. It's a good thing to love; something that will give him pleasure for the rest of his life. It's a good thing he enjoys it so much because their first meet is tomorrow. He has to be at the school at 6:00 am. They will drive about 150 miles to a golf course that isn't still buried in snow and then play 18 holes before driving another 150 miles home. It's supposed to still be cold. Very cold. It's supposed to be in the single digits for a low overnight and warm up to the teens during the day.

Dress warm, Andy.

Dress very warm.