Golf is a-callin, don’tcha know

There’s yer mini-putt with a windmill or two, and then there’s a real golf course like we have here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean with 11 ½ holes. Big holes to make it easier to score, don’tcha know.

Sure, folks here are all about havin’ fun instead of beating each other for a beer or 6…though that can be fun too I suppose.

Why my Auntie Hester used to golf at Liam Caw-Fittup’s 11 ½  Big Ones, and once she had to reach so far down to get her ball out of a hole, she got her arm stuck and the volunteer fire brigade had to come pull her out.

I think ground hogs live in those holes. Cause I seen little eyes staring at me on the 8th and 9th ones.  Either that or my arthur-itis medication is stronger then I thought!

And oh boy is it ever pretty out there. Course you got to tee off from top of a picnic table so you don’t sink down in to a mud hole. But once you walk a hundred yards or so it’s real nice. Almost like real grass, don’tcha know.

All kidding aside… we all like golfing at 11 ½ Big Ones and getting around in the carts they got from Arnie’s Vegetables & Veterinary. Makes folks feel connected to the things that grow in the earth and the things that do their thing on ’em.

Why ol’ Maybelle’s gonna hit some balls tomorrow morning with Sybil Beaucannon Hughes, Twindle Mumbly, and Vilma Yuccch.

Twindle’s pre-game warm up? — putting on his jacket.

Sure hope the weather holds. Right now it’s April in Paris right here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean.

Nightie night.  Maybelle

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