Low scudding clouds, near white at the horizon deepening to gunmetal gray overhead, are effectively blocking a warming sunshine from heating up my shaking hands. A steady and stiffening breeze from out of the far north, where it is common and even welcomed, is chilling the new leaves on the trees and cooling the springtime warming of the lake. It’s one of those days when everything inside and out is tinged with gloom.
I had been looking forward to cavorting on the golf course today, but the weather gods have effectively put an end to that notion. Now instead of stroking perfect seven iron approach shots to the middle of the green, I’m hunkered down inside, languishing on the recliner and not speeding down the fairway in my cart chasing after that shiny white golf ball. The possibility of hauling the kayaks out of their winter storage was bandied about before we realized that we would require too many clothing layers to be comfortable outside and that those layers would preclude any movement of a kayaking nature. So they will remain under cover for another week awaiting more propitious conditions. And the golf clubs will not need to be cleaned again.
On the upside, I can get caught up on some reading. I can initiate happy hour perhaps a bit earlier as a way to brighten the day. I can use this time to maybe finish, or at least push along toward a satisfactory denouement, the shortstories that have piled up on the desktop. Or I can simply give in to my slothful nature and turn on the TV and watch this week’s golf tournament while noshing on salty forbidden snacks washed down by copious gulps of cheap red wine.
Yeah, I think we’re getting somewhere now. Snacks and wine and televised golf. What else could be a better counter to a cold, gray, windy late spring day? Sloth it is. The other 6 deadly sins will have to wait for another day.