It has been a couple of years since Josie had a stroke, but she has been on an upward trajectory, healthwise, ever since and, in the last year has taken up golf.
Its not really my cup of tea, but when she invited us along to play, some of us decided to give it a go. Not Patsy though.
"I'd rather to have my nipples removed than dress up in those silly golf trousers just so I can look like a feckin' tool," she stated, before adding. "I'll leave that to Jose."
So that's how Maggie and I found ourselves on a golf course last week as an easterly wind turned our ears blue. Well, it was the middle of May, I suppose.
Aunt Sadie had graciously said I could borrow the clubs belonging to her late husband.
"But if you damage them you are dead!" she shouted as I wrestled them out of her attic. The dust off the bag nearly gave me anaphylactic shock so I was halfway there already.
Maggie arrived at the first tee box lugging a bag of clubs belonging to her husband. When she measured the driver, it came up to her shoulder. Before taking a swing, she took out a plastic bottle of what looked like plant fertiliser.
"Goji berries mixed with wheatgrass," she explained. "Tastes vile but brilliant for getting rid of the wrinkles around your eyes."
I don't know where she reads this crap. If she ironed her face she still wouldn't get rid of the wrinkles.
Josie invited her to take the first shot. She swung wildly and took a divot the size of a pot plant with her. Somehow, her shot managed to go over the water.
From there, she took another couple of swings and, in the process, did more damage to the golf course than a truckload of rabbits.
Her golf continued in the same vein for the next couple of holes and by the time she reached the fifth, we reckon she had done about €5,000 worth of damage and Josie's membership was in the balance.
All the while she was slugging away on her drink until the sixth hole when she made a sudden gallop towards a wood, undoing her golf trousers as she ran.
Fifteen minutes later she staggered out, about 4lbs lighter and with more wrinkles on her face than a squeeze box. Bear Grylls would have been proud of her.
"I need a drink," she whispered.
We brought her into the bar and swapped the goji berries for the juniper ones.
After her second she got brave and told Josie where she could stick her golf.
Up her par three apparently...