'Forgive me, ladies -- just an old carpenter's term I once 
heard.' They turned away, leaving an aura of disgust radiating in 
the sun-lit air.


After we finished out the hole and all my visions of a 
superlative round were sunk, we gathered around the 6-th tee to 
wait until the old ladies had finished out the next hole. 
Suddenly one of my partners called: 'Look at that!'


Our eyes were raised quickly enough just to catch one of the old 
ladies walking briskly off the green in the direction of a 
spindly cherry tree. A flurry of pink blossoms filled the air as 
she bashed it again and again with her putter.