The Rambling Continues

As I write this it is now Tuesday morning, and I am at work...grrrr!!!!
Sunday
Now my Sunday turned out to be a little more eventful than my Saturday, but maybe a little too eventful! On the last Sunday of every month, I partake in a little competition golf. Yes I do manage to do other things apart from tweet.
This year I joined Annanhill Ladies Golf Club, which is a small club of around 15 lady members who's ages range from mine to Thomson who is 72. Even at 72 she can still put the rest of us to shame with her energetic blast round the course. Having never swung a golf club since I was 11, I thought this would be a good way to beat the recession blues and get at least 4 hours of uninterrupted peace from work related stress. (yes, despite my constant twittering, I actually do have a real job!)
It has turned out to be a godsend this year. Little did I know that I'd actually be good at it. So good in fact, that I won the Club Championship and have received the title of Annanhill Ladies Champion 2009, an honor which is bestowed on few and gives you the privilege of having your name added to board which hangs proudly in the clubhouse. I may add that this has not made me the most popular rookie in the club, and has led to such name calling as "El Ban dido", "Tiger Watson" and "The Shark" all of which I find incredibly funny. Along with the club championship, I have also managed to secure the 4 other main trophies, along with a pile on Wednesday Night Stroke Play matches and a few Sunday Medal matches. In truth, the majority of members have been very supportive, encouraging and full of praise for my success, only a select few have found their jealously hard to hide. The standing joke at the minute is that "69" is my favourite number as I have had 5 in row. This basically makes me very hard to beat and results in my handicap being cut. I am now also the most cut Bronze player, which enters me into some Scottish competition next year. Having never won at anything in my life before, I am naturally very excited about our Prize Giving Evening in late November(Do think James Toseland would like to come up to Scotland and hand them over...a girl can live in hope..lol)
Where was I, oh aye...Sunday - I get up fairly early pre 10am, make coffee, walk the dogs and all the other usual boring an mundane things that we do first thing. My match is around 12.45pm, which should get me back just in time for our club lesson from 6pm - 7pm and then its straight home for MotoGP. Sounds easy enough, nothing difficult there...mmmm
I limit my coffee intake before golf, for one reason and one reason only. There is nowhere to hand in your tinkle ticket on the course. Plenty of trees and bushes, but its not easy when your all wrapped up like a burst pipe. So instead, I prefer just to limit my fluid intake saves any hastle...maybe a little too much info!!!
As usual I have sat around far too long, an grab everything last minute...damn it...the fuel light is on in the car. Off to the garage I go, luckily it's on my way there.
I can see the garage about 500yrds away when my car starts to splutter..Oh no I'm not gonna make it...I start to swerve the car like a rider lining up for the grid after the warm up lap.....wrong...as I put my indicator on to turn the car dies, all the lights come on and I have no power steering. Thankfully nothing is coming and I coast across the junction into the Q8 petrol station and straight to the pump. Geez oh that was lucky I'm thinking. I fill her up with diesel, and pay, but alas she wont start. Its turning over but nothing..damn it..who do I phone first. I'm thinking does this car self-bleed, will it bleed before my battery dies trying. I phone my playing partner, who happens to be just about at the garage, and she files in at the pump behind me. By now the garage is totally swamped, even the tanker has arrived for another delivery and there is chaos...all caused by me blocking the pump. Eventually after a flurry of activity, which includes searching for a towing eye on the car with no luck, I decide jump leads may be the best option..I don't know alot about cars, but enough to know that if I completely flatten the battery my day of golf is over before it starts. As I go to buy them, a nice chap spots my open bonnet and offers his assistance. We push the car forward and away from the pump (only because it takes a petrol pump attendant to point out to a gaggle of men, that the use of jump leads near the pumps may cause injury...who knew!!!..lol) One jump and we're started, and a breathe a huge sigh of relief. The nice man tells me to "boot it" to the golf club. I don't need to be told that twice and I'm off like a rocket with my playing partner left behind to catch up.
We manage 14 out of 18 holes before the rain starts and when we get back, I am beaten by 1 stroke. Aw well you can't win them all!!!
Only the lesson to go and then it will be time for MotoGP. But there has been a mix up and our pro's (who take the lessons) are playing elsewhere, cool means I get to go straight home.
There are no more issues with the car and I get home safely.
I'm met at the door by 3 hungry puppy dogs with their legs crossed, so we all get fed, watered and walked before I get a chance to sit down.
Finally I get dinner and once again enter my virtual twitter world as Mrs Toseland. My tweetdeck lights up like a Christmas tree when I log on, with lots of messages from great and kind peeps from here and across the pond, who already know I am watching James avidly. Messages such as "Aw look he's waving at you" and "I just got my ears blasted off taking this photo for you" make me giggle uncontrollably like a school girl.
The race is excellent, and when my heart rate finally returns to normal I find myself once again awaiting bail from twitterjail...lol
The rest of my evening is spent chatting with like minded individuals and my threat of an early night comes and goes. Resulting in me finally logging off well after midnight. Only then has my weekend finally "kicked the bucket!!".
Jen