I managed to get into prison to see our friend without warnings of any kind about my clothing!  I think I have my new prison outfit.  (Okay, so it won't be as fetching as Lara Croft's but then again, this is real life.)  It was a gorgeous day, high clouds, cool breeze.  Visiting was crowded but no one got kicked out.  Our friend looks good--healthy, focused on the things that get him through day to day; reading, jogging, controlling his diet in an uncontrollable environment, work, responding to letters, looking forward to visits.

We had a nice moment with one of the guards as we left.  He's seen us coming in to visit for the past 3 years and has gotten to know us by sight.  He asked if we had a good visit.  We said yes.  Then I added (because I always have to add something), "It's just always so hard to leave."  His face immediatly shut down and went back to guard mode.  I suppose it either got too personal/real for him, or invoked sympathy and as a guard, he just can't go there.  He's been one of the nice ones (to us anyway).  When we're done with this whole sorry mess (21 more months, LORD willing), I plan on sending a thank you note to him and a few others.

The trip was brutal both ways, but we were able to make it home to our own house last night and it's always good to sleep in your own bed.  I come back from these visits hyperaware of all that we have within easy reach (and often take for granted) and all that he does without.  Then I gradually slip back into life until the next visit, where my senses get abraded all over again.

Enough of that for today, eh?

I was excited to read that my friend, Todd Truffin, will be rooting me on for nonwrimo.  I was telling Dan about the project during our trip and it occured to me that earlier this fall I was telling my sister-in-law, Cindy, that I was looking for things to eliminate between now and the end of the year.  Then I went and piled on this commitment.  Ah well!  We'll see how it goes.

One last tidbit in this scattered post--Tomorrow Dan and I will be playing Torrey Pines South Course.  I'm excited and moved to be playing the course my Grandpa Stube played every weekday.  I'm intimidated to be playing a course that the pros find challenging (and that sandiegogolf.com recommends skipping if one's index is over 18).  Let's hope for good placement of the women's tees.

I am getting myself into the proper mental state for the game.  It helps to remember that:

1.  No one else cares how I golf tomorrow (with the possible exception of Dan, whose main hope is just that I have a good time and don't bug him).

2.  I'm not going to be in the top tier of the finishers, so it doesn't matter if I have a blow-up hole (which I likely will) or three (which I hope I won't).

3.  I'm there to enjoy and feel some connection to the Grand-father who died when I was 11.  I never knew Buddy (that was his nickname) very well.  I hope somewhere he's watching...and that he'll forgive me for the last conversation we had.  He was scolding me for being rebellious and I am sure my response was, well...rebellious.  Sorry, Buddy.

4.  Success in this case will be playing the course.  How's that for setting reasonable expectations?  I'll be counting my blessings every step of the way.

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