Two Golf Balls and One Angry Mama

I'm no golfer, so I don't understand the point of teeing off into a body of water, on purpose. A golf ball in the water is pollution as far as I'm concerned, no different from an aluminum can or a plastic bag.
Earlier this summer Obo and our neighbor Puppy Boy were snorkeling around our beach and found several golf balls at the bottom of the lake. "Hmm," we said. "That's weird. From where might those have come?"

Well now I can tell you. Tonight, as R and I were enjoying the sunset on the still water, a golf ball zoomed past our heads. And then another one.

Photo by Christopher Seufert

Our neighbors directly across the lake were enjoying a little game, apparently. Besides our teeth, they almost took out the window of the house behind us.

It's a good thing I have a calm, reasonable husband because just as I was about to shout obscenities from the end of our dock, R hopped in the stinky boat, cruised on over, and politely asked the bunch of rowdy college boys to stop trying to clock us with sporting equipment. Grrr.

I tried to Google golf ball pollution, but it seems that I'm the only person in the world who thinks that hitting golf balls into water is a bad idea. Although, they are making environmentally friendly golf balls these days, so that must mean something.

In happier news, we spoke to Obo tonight, and he is enjoying his time with the Brits. He says he's eating tea and biscuits while riding on the red double-decker bus just as I expected he would. He also said he'll start making his farewell rounds on Monday and will be back The Woods on Thursday. Yay!

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