Thursday, December 26, 2019

This is what happens when it's 50 degrees in December in MichiCanada

Our little municipal golf course (the hidden jewel) was going to start their winter season on December 14.

Up here, "winter season" means that people crosscountry ski/snowshoe/fat tire bike on the golf course, because it's covered in snow. Which it usually is, by the middle of December.

This year, though, is a strange one.

So instead of snowshoeing on December 23, we played golf. Well, I just chipped and putted around the greens, because my elbow still isn't cleared to hit full shots, but Eli 18.4 played and I walked along with him, which was the nicest, most relaxing time.

He went +4 for nine holes after not hitting balls for three months. This kid.

"This is one of my favorite nine holes ever," I said as we walked up the 9th fairway.

"Really?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "Golf at the end of December? I feel like I'm stealing."

I guess I can keep golf shoes and snowshoes in the car for a while, just so I'm covered.

Eli 18.4 had possibly the happiest first semester any college student has ever had. He made a ton of great friends, played intramural flag football and soccer, made the rock climbing team and qualified for regionals, grades were A or A+ for all his classes, and he applied for a UN internship this summer. Oh, and I think he's going to be classified as a senior by the first semester of his third year.

None of that surprises me, in isolation, but for all of it to be going so well makes me so happy. The place he wasn't sure he wanted to go turned out to be the place where he belonged.

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