Just a quick update until my co-writer is available for wit and humorous commentary which will rivet you to your sits. Today is the second day of golf and 11 of us ventured out to Doonbeg Golf Club to challenge the course and the elements. Mike Simmons and (as we politely called them) his harem (Rose, Sandi, Liann and Mary)  had decided to stay behind rather than take on too much golf in such a short time frame… like that is really possible.

 

Doonbeg is on the coast and is another fantastic course. Despite being new, it very much fit in with the terrain and you probably won’t have realized just how new a course it was. During the round we encountered all 4 seasons… well maybe not all 4 since it didn’t snow, but we got sun, rain, and wind… and most of them all at the same time.

 

Now the ultimate story took place not on the golf course, but back with Mike and his harem. They had decided that since they had plenty of time to kill while the intrepid played yet another round of golf, they would venture into the City of Ennis and take in the sites… churches, pubs (with music flowing), and plenty of shops.

 

Now Mike being Mike, decided that he needed to grab the attention of not only his harem, but the local town folk as well. At the center of a “traffic circle” there was a small raised platform… obviously this is where someone should stand to direct traffic… and direct it he did.

 

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 Pointing north and waving for the cars to pass – then suddenly holding his hand to HALT, and waving back to the South. Well as you can imagine, the Irish were little match to Mike’s captivating presence… BAM… a three car pileup.

 

Soon there was shouting and sirens and all matter of chaos. Mike’s harem quickly deserted for the nearest pub while Mike was left explaining himself to the local authorities. But before you knew it, everyone was laughing as Mike started telling one of his many jokes and the harem quickly pulled him back to the bus for the ride to Doonbeg. The local constable told him not to worry none… he was pretty sure it had been Father O’Conner who was really to blame (nipping at the bottle after church no doubt, eh) and that he’d take care of it.

 

Some events in this blog may contain fictional embellishments included for the reading enjoyment of the viewer. No animals were harmed in the writing of this blog.

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