My husband gets a little “irked” with me, as we say down here in the South, every time we are getting ready to go play a round of golf.
First, I have to have shoes to match my outfit. And a visor, naturally. I have to have nine thousand (or so) balls, because I have this uncanny ability to find the exact center of any body of water within shooting distance with my ball. I have to have my lipgloss in my pocket (because I’m Southern a girls gotta look good to play this game, y’all) and a magazine to read in the car on the way. I find it does absolutely nothing helps my game alot if I bone up on swing tips from Phil Nickelson in the Golf Digest before a round. A cooler with a few beers in it is another “must”, if only to ward off a deep depression and quit golf altogether to celebrate another successful round after the eighteenth hole.
And finally, I always insist on taking my camera. You never know what you might see out there! Why, a dern ole dragonfly might just decide to land on the end of your driver….
He was obviously posing for Macro Monday.
For Macro Monday, you take a close up picture that you think is blog-worthy, post it, and link back to Macro Monday so everyone can visit everyone! (That’s southeren-eese for leave each other comments, if you know what’s good for ya.)