This morning Jess and I went to the clubhouse at the Scotch Plains Country Club to get her fitted for her soccer uniform. Walking out, I showed her the putting green to the right of the building. "Wow, this grass is very, very short," she said. "Why are there three sizes of grass?" she asked.
I explained that the green has the shortest grass, that the next level is called the fringe, and the tall grass is called the rough. "Oh," she said after a moment. "So our yard is the rough." "Yes, exactly," I replied. I cut the grass when we got home.
Goodbye, Aunt Fran
2 weeks ago