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... s before finally deciding to sit down on a garden bench.
I stretched my legs out and leaned back with a sigh. "Husband, why don’t you have a golf cart here?" I complained. "We’ve been walking for half an hour already, and if we want to go back to the house, that’s another thirty minutes of walking!"
Seriously, how could he not have a golf cart in this ridiculously huge place? What if one day I tripped and sprained my ankle? Was I supposed to crawl my way home or scream for help? ...
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