There's a certain little tournament in town this week. You might'a heard of it. King and I were fortunate enough to have a very generous couple share their badges with us for the day. The National is an incredibly beautiful place. I don't know if there is anything quite like it in the world. Even if you don't like the game, you are drawn in by the incredible history these acres possess.
Despite the fact that we looked like drowned rats by noontime, I was quite content. In fact, in the middle of the downpour, when everyone was moaning and groaning, I told King, "I refuse to complain. I am not in the hospital with cancer. I am not at a funeral. I am not listening to children screaming. I am at the Masters. With you. And there's just no better place to be."
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I agree with you . . . I would take the bad weather just to have some alone time with my Joey.
Since we've been renting our house, we haven't been to the course in several years. But Joe and I (before kids) would always go on Monday's practice round for the entire day. Joe loved watching the players, and I loved watching the international crowd. It was always loads of fun.
God bless.
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