Golfing Stalwart Eleanor Fisken has died

Eleanor Fisken died last week aged 77 originally from Glasgow and a most enthusiastic member at Douglas Park Golf Club.
Eleanor played in many County matches for D&A and was a very true supporter of the team.
She moved to Nairn where she enjoyed golfing on that fabulous course.
She was a physiotherapist and worked at Inverness at Raigmore hospital until her retirement over 12 years ago.
She enjoyed walking with her faithful black Labrador and took up ornithology in the area around Nairn.
Eleanor enjoyed the company of many golfing friends from all over Scotland and will be fondly remembered
In 2008 at the Scottish Senior Supper at Deeside -- she will be remembered for taking part in what was a very entertaining evening as Prince Charming




Funeral Details -- CLICK HERE 
Thanks go to Isabel Crawford for her very kind tribute

In fact Isabel has just written back to say---

Thank you Carol for the tribute to Eleanor  and the video .....that is just what Eleanor loved ...a good laugh after her game and a dram or two !!!
Many years ago twelve of us got together to form the Dirty Dozen  ....keen on playing golf for pleasure out of season and of course Eleanor was a leading light. We decided to entertain at the Scottish at Machrihanish and spent the winter writing daft songs and poems about golf and well known golfers....with a huge amount of merriment!

Eleanor and Vicki McAllister wrote the first song and it is just as appropriate today ..
Thought you would like to read it !
To the tune ..the song of the Clyde 

There's many a time when we stand on the first,
We're so full of nerves that we think that we'll burst ,
We take back the club as it says on the book
And finish it off with a ruddy great hook!
Chorus...Oh this game of golf is a wonderful game
               It's very frustrating but played just the same
               Playing so badly we come back for more
               Hoping one day that we have a good score

We find the wee ball deep down in the whins,
Oh,! what a price to pay for our sins ,
We give it a bash with all of our strength
Striving as usual for far too much length

It disappears into the trap at the green
Into the worst lie that ever we've seen
We open the face of our trusty sand wedge
And skin it right over that far away hedge

A slice at the second,a shank at the third
A duck hook to follow and then a BAD WORD!
And so it continues to the end of the round
When we would sell all our clubs for a pound