Golf is the hot topic around my house these days. I have swung irons around since a small girl, but my husband is a burgeoning player who begs me to come with him to the driving range in the evenings once the sun has hung low enough in the sky to not singe in the triple digits.
So when I was looking for a unique and thoughtful container for my kitchen utensils, I knew I would come out swinging when I landed this rusty, old thing at the flea market. With a little bit of elbow grease, I kinda like it.
And so does the hubs.
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