Well I can’t believe it but the winter break has passed on by and already I have played my first tournament of the New Year. I had one task to complete in my month off in Dubai and that was to write a blog, which somehow was beyond me, oh and replace a screw on the kitchen drawer. You guessed it that did not get done either.

I don’t know what happened to the time really, a bit of gym work a bit of golf with friends, a few drinks with friends and hey presto the new year is upon us. Unbelievable. At least I got to spend some quality time with the wife, which is great. Mostly this is spent with her playing ‘Words with Friends’ on her iphone with my colleagues, and me reading The Mail online, which we believe is the way to a happy marriage. 

We have, however, had a new arrival this winter and our family has grown to include a new member of the Howell clan. No not the baby. Thankfully, Mrs H is still tending to that. No, Mr Whiskerson has moved into the family fold for the winter and if our child is half as cute as him we will be delighted. To explain – basically, Emily has become more and more distraught at the amount of stray cats in Dubai and has taken to trying to feed as many of them as possible.

Mrs White had been the main beneficiary of her good nature.  Mrs White, who is black by the way (beats me), lives in a dumpster in Dubai by the Gold and Diamond park. What the wife is doing scrimmaging around in a dumpster I do not know. Come to think of it I don’t know what she was doing at the Gold and Diamond park either, but hey ho. Anyhow, Mrs White gets a meal every two days and one particular night Mr Whiskerson meowed his little 4-week-old heart out just loud enough for Emily to find him underneath a bunch of cardboard boxes in Mrs White’s dumpster.

So long story short, Emily saves Mr Whiskerson from a life on the streets, takes him to the vets for his inoculations and lets him move into our spare room. Cute does not begin to describe this little guy. What follows however are many discussions about how we can’t keep him due to our two city lifestyle and more tears than I could imagine possible from the wife, who proclaims a love so strong towards our new furry friend that I feel a little jealous.

Nights out become foreshortened, invites are turned down, afternoons lounging at the pool are a thing of the past all to make sure Mr. Whiskerson’s every whim is tended too. Finally his plight was advertised on the web and a stream of possible fosterers applied for the role of carer - none of whom were deemed suitable. However, just in the nick of time, a lovely Italian family called to say they were interested. Emily informed the lady of the interview process which consisted of her coming to our apartment for a first interview and possible viewing of Whiskerson, then a second interview whereby Emily would view the new families home to make sure it was in a decent neighborhood, with good street lighting, accessible exercise areas, traffic calming measures and a good school.

Should the good Samaritans somehow manage to pass these regulations they then earn themselves the right to first refusal of Whiskerson after a cooling-off period of one week to make sure they really are serious about caring for him for the long term. Cute. So there you have it, every morning my day starts by cleaning out the litter tray (which by the way is used religiously from the age of 6-weeks-old it would seem). How does that work I wonder? We humans are supposed to be ahead of the game compared to all other animals in terms of evolution and intelligence but I am told that our new baby will need tending to on this front for a couple of years and yet Whiskerson sorts himself out after only six weeks, makes no sense to me at all. Still I have to say I like my new, little buddy and I will be sad to see him go but a good home has been found and I think Emily will stop crying around September time so all is well, really.

News my end then is after six years with a heavy heart my relationship with Cleveland has come to an end so it’s a fresh start to the new year with Titleist balls and Taylor Made drivers, my old Yes putter has forced its way back into the bag after I briefly cast it aside for the last month of last season and regrettably Gordon and I have parted company also. Two caddies saw me through the 2011 season. Muller, who dumped me for Clarkey you might recall before winning The Open, and Gordon, who took his place in May after my return from injury. Both did their best for me and I wish them both all the best for the future but I decided that with the turn of the year along with new equipment should come a fresh face on the bag.

Steve Brotherhood (Bro) has taken up the reigns and is off to a flying start. Trying to shed a few unwanted pounds he informed me that he was on a diet, which involves only a shake for breakfast and lunch then a healthy meal in the evening. So I was a little surprised when on Wednesday the 3^rd January during the pro-am he munched his way through a chicken mayo baguette.  When I asked him whether this was within the limitations of his new wonder diet he replied that it was not really. I then inquired as to when he started this new regime which was bound to aid rapid weight loss and he replied: “This morning!” Looks like at the very least I may have a few tales to tell as we move on through the year.

Oh, first result of the year: 14 under par, 68 69 72 69, not bad hey? Well that looks better than 29th anyway in my eyes. Yeah you read that right. Turns out East London is a very nice, very, very, easy golf course when the wind does not blow. A terrific 27-under won and ten under was about sixtieth. Tough school for the first week of the year but all in all four rounds under par to start the year was more than acceptable.