So The Gent tells me about his day at the golf course and sums it up in the following sentence:
We have a dead beaver, two Harry Cox, and blood everywhere.
Allow me to explain.
The following tales are all true:
I don’t know why the photo is showing up like this, I rotated it to the right and saved it but it’s not showing up the way I want. Oh well. You get the point.
First thing this morning when The Gent pulls into work, he finds a dead beaver right in front of the club house. Someone had killed it and placed it there. They thought they were being cute. The golf course is having problems with beavers so this was the solution for one patron, to kill one of them.
The next thing that gets The Gent’s attention is the tee time sheet. Apparently Mr. Harry Cox Sr. called yesterday evening after The Gent left work and wanted to be put down on the tee time sheet; Harry Cox Senior and Harry Cox Junior. Whoever took Mr. Cox’s phone call inadvertently did not spell Mr. Harry Cox’s last name correctly. They wrote down the other spelling for the word. So when The Gent came in and saw the tee time sheet this morning, there it was; two Harry Cocks down to play golf at 8:08AM.
Shortly after the Coxs’ got off (to their tee time), a man came through the front door holding his wrist. He was bleeding profusely. He explained to The Gent that he had driven in from Birmingham to meet his two sons to play golf. He had reached under his car seat to grab something and when he pulled his hand out he caught his wrist on something, a big gash opened him up and the blood started spewing everywhere. The Gent said he hadn’t seen that much blood in a long time (I didn’t think to ask The Gent when the other time he saw that much blood). Luckily, when the sons got there, one of them was a trauma nurse and took charge of the matter. The man is OK. But they had to drive him back to Birmingham to be seen by a doctor. Poor guy.
You know, I don’t even know how to end this evening’s blog post, so I’ll just quietly slip out the back….