CGMan and I golfed together this past weekend. We drove down to Williamsburg to meet some friends and play golf at their beautiful club. Okay, I don’t know from golf clubs, country clubs or billy clubs, all I know is, the course we played was beautiful!
I do not consider myself a golfer, so don’t get all excited that you know the next middle aged women’s phenom. I know how to play golf. I’m not great, but I’m not horrible. I don’t care. If it’s a beautiful day and not too hot, I like to get out with my husband and whack a few balls.
We played a best ball scramble with our friends. I have to take this opportunity, before it gets lost in obscurity, to tell you that one hole (a par 4), my ball was the best ball. All the way to the cup. Thank you, thank you very much. *polite golf claps all around*
I wish I could tell you more about the golf game, the scores, handicaps (whatever that is!) or even the name of the course. The reason? These:
We couldn’t round a single bend when I would just have to squeee! and take a picture of yet more baby geese. The ground hogs/wood chucks were cracking me up. Every time I saw them, I thought of this:
I saw a blue heron, too, but he was camera shy.
If I had known golfing was more fun than going to the zoo, I would have taken it up sooner.