I don't think I've told these stories before but forgive me if I have.
A few years ago, I was playing golf with a friend on a course near Dundee. He had been in and out of the rough and, on the 8th green, conceded the hole and asked me to pick up his ball. I did so and looked at it. There was a logo on the ball and the words "Briarwood Golf Club, Billings Montana". I couldn't believe it and asked him where he had got the ball. It turned out that he had been playing the course a couple of days earlier, had found the ball and stuck it in his bag. As most of you know, Billings, Montana is just about my favourite place on earth. Outside of Scotland, Briarwood Golf Club is the only place in the world I have played golf. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
About 15 years ago, I was on holiday with my wife and family in the Highlands. I bought a book by Tom Shields, a compilation of his columns for The Glasgow Herald. The kids were in bed and my wife announced she was bored. I jokingly asked if she wanted me to read to her from my book and she, also jokingly, said "yes". I started reading from the point of the book I had reached----the column was about my wife's father! Neither of us knew that her father had been featured in the author's columns and I had NEVER read anything out loud to my wife before. Or since.
Got any spooky coincidences?
