What a sweet time we had. We snuck away from the crowds of family chores and work and homework and gardening. All of these are fun, but I rarely get time with the ones and the twos. He humored me, because he really only likes tennis a little and would have preferred to have run with Emma, the dog, going hawk watching. He had the binoculars, but he hit with me anyway. Happy for me!
The pollen on the courts was so thick that the balls hit the ground and kicked up dust. It was like playing on clay. A fresh can of tennis balls, the smell was delicious and we hit, on and off for a couple of hours and when we got back at 9:30 we were hardly missed. A mouth full of pollen and overheads until we turned green from the sweat and pollen mixed. It was as if, time stood still at home while we enjoyed the park and the sky and the sun. Fewer words are rarely spoken. Everybody else fills my mind with all of their stuff. Look at that, he says. Yep, I say. That is our way. When will these children learn to close the gate of the courts behind them? Does that bother you?
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