Weekend in the FP

This weekend my dad and brother came to the FP to golf, but there was a tournament in the morning, so we took a drive down a dirt road that we'd never really been down before. We parked when the mud got too fierce and tromped down into the canyon to take a look at the creek. Pretty soon someone found a Huge moth tucked down between some rocks by the water. The moth was dead, but beautiful. I wanted to take it home, but couldn't carry it as I scrambled up the canyon. My dad devised a solution: he took off his hat, set the moth in the hat, and then put it back on his head, careful not to tug it down too far (lest he squash the moth). He kept the moth safe up there for the whole hike, and now the moth "lives" under the leaves of one of our tropical houseplants. It startles me every time I look over, because it takes a few minutes of looking before I realize there is something under the leaves--and then my heart rate increases until I remember that it's just the moth.



I love it's "fur" and it's antenna things with their little spines.



What else we saw on our excursion:







It was as if the FP wanted to show off just a little for our guests.

When we finally went golfing in the late afternoon, The Rock and I made the most of our time. Neither of us is even remotely interested in even pretending to like golf, so we found ways to entertain ourselves. I perfected the art of scooping up golf balls while the golf cart is still rolling (I had three or four balls on the course almost the entire time, and most of them weren't worth hitting a second time, so there were always a few to round up using this method). The Rock insisted on doing doughnuts every so often (slowly, so as not to hurt the grass) and in speeding around my brother's cart.

The Rock, it turns out, has a natural talent for hitting a ball a long ways. Usually not in the right direction, but a Long Ways is worth something in my book--I need at least four swings before I can even make contact with the ball, let alone send it soaring across the course. By the last hole, The Rock volunteered that he had taken fifteen swings on that hole alone. I had lost count, and at some point The Rock had tossed my ball in the general direction of the green so I wasn't sure how many swings that counted for.

Overall, I would say it was quite a delightful first time golfing on a Real Course (my prior attempts were solely in the world of goofy golf (or putt putt as they say in Virginia)) and if someone pays for the golf cart, I'll happily go again.