Generosity

Didn’t do too badly with getting out of Rio early today, but by the time the cat has been catered for, plants watered, food packed and everything but the kitchen sink piled into the car, we never get away at the appointed time. Anyway, it was a beautiful drive up, with bright sunshine and the mountains at their most magnificent, although clouds threatened as we came over the watershed. Luckily, they gave way to bright sunshine.
 
I dropped HH off at the club to look for a game, then went home to greet and walk the dogs before taking a much-needed siesta. Leaving that nice warm bed later wasn’t easy, but I finally made it back to the club for the investiture of the new club president. A pompous word, but oh my goodness, was the ceremony over the top! For a start, both the retiring and the new presidents and the new vice-president wore black suits (in my view, black suits have no place in a golf club, even on a waiter). Then they both talked for hours – was I glad that I arrived almost an hour after it started!
 

A plaque was also unveiled to the ex-president responsible for building the current, very warm and welcoming, clubhouse. He greatly deserves the honour, as he was president for many years and made a good job of it, but he’s now 84 and in failing health, and wasn’t up to making the journey from Rio. Also present was Sr. Althayde, the gentleman in the picture, who was responsible for the actual building. He seemed a bit left out after all the bang and do was over and people started on the wine and nibblies, so HH and I spent quite a while talking to him – we’re the richer for it, he’s a delightful man, inspiring, in fact. He told us how he and his wife had adopted the girl in the picture as their daughter when her mother and father abandoned her. She has only half of the normal cephalic mass (presumably that that means that basically, only half of her brain has developed, but that’s probably over-simplifying). She’s a dear child, and very affectionate, but Sr. Althayde told us she frequently worries about what will become of her when her adoptive parents die. As he is in his 70s, it’s a valid question, and I fear may have no satisfactory answer.