we got game
The Librarian and I are playing tennis this summer.
By "playing tennis" here, I mean that we hit balls around the concrete court in her neighborhood, occasionally even managing to get a three-or-four series rally, but mostly chasing down the balls we've hit into the grass or the net. Or the next court.
And then there are the ones that were well placed that we still manage to miss.
It's a good workout, all that running around in circles.
Longtime friends and relatives of Texas in Africa will note that I have taken beginning tennis lessons no less than five (5) times. My racket cover, in fact, still has a piece of masking tape on which my mom wrote my name before my inaugural attempt at tennis at camp circa 1992.
I took beginning tennis at camp at least three times.
And at Baylor (for credit).
And in the Congo (in Swahili, which pretty much explains everything).
Hand-eye coordination is not exactly my strong suit.
Lucikly, we are pretty evenly matched. :)
It's a good time. We're getting better. Trying to keep our shots from interfering with the other people who had the misfortune to choose Monday nights for their game gets the heart rate up. And the Librarian and I enjoy getting to catch up on all our gossip, I mean, prayer requests.
Plus I get to wear my rattiest old gym shorts which also have my name written in my mother's handwriting on the tag. 'Cause I wore those to camp, too.
It's a special relationship, me and tennis.