Friday, July 20, 2007


Reluctantly, I had to decline to come up and go golfing with my brothers. I am really, really bad at golfing, but my dad and two brothers, however, are not they are really, really, really good. We use to {and still do} give my dad a box of golf balls every chance we could get. He usually wins them in his tournaments. When we were young he would take us out into the back yard, and drive his extra balls into the pasture that was at least 300 yards away. Really. It still impresses me. That pasture has a row of Trees in front of it about 65 feet tall. He drives them over every time.

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