So, Saturday morning comes around again, and the usual plans have been made the previous evening over a bottle of Glayva. 

I set off at 8:30am and pick the lads up with the usual wait for one of them.  As we arrive at the Club House it is blowing a Gale from the West along the Solway coast.  So we had a couple of coffees while deciding if we should go out & venture we did. 
We were promised "Squalls", but on the 3rd tee it turned into a Torrential Down-pour.  It was shortly after this that I discovered my "Water-proofs" were in actual fact only "Shower-proof".  The rain was driven horizontally making it impossible to use a brolly.
We eventually gave up after 9 holes, where upon we returned to the CH & very much needed hot refreshment.
Much to the amusement of my friends, I was soaked through to the skin with only my dry sweater to change into.  The customary “Roaring Fire” was such a miserable thing that it would have been warmer to sit in the car!  I have now decided to invest my hard earned cash in a more substantial set of Proofs.  As for the score, I cared not a jot, and after a few “Toddies”, I cared even less for the “Golf Gods”, profaning their name profusely .  This evening has been spent drying all my gear while drowning my  woes with the amiable assistance of a bottle of  Highland Park.  Then again there is always tomorrow, eh?