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Near our apartment complex is a disc golf course. You know, where you have to throw a Frisbee down the green to get it into this metal cage thingie that is the "hole"?
All of those hardcore players have bags full of discs of all sizes and weights. A putter, a driver, and other disc things I know nothing about.
One afternoon while Phoebe was napping and I was typing or painting, Jerry took the kids to play Frisbee golf. I thought that would make for a good post so I asked him to take the camera with him to snap some pictures of the kids playing disc golf.
This is what he came back with:
(Oh, wait, that's right! This isn't golf, is dinosaur riding.)

(Oh, wait. Not golf but the kids running on a bridge at the playground.)

(still no golf.)
(Still no golf. Where's are the dang golf pictures?)
(Great pictures, Jerry. Thanks for documenting the Frisbee golf. NOT!)
I owe you one.