I had a great weekend with Katie home: ice cream at the place with the silly name (Flayvors) and the great view, a little gardening, dinner out and dinner in, local strawberries with whipped cream on homemade biscuits, and then to top it off, the Tony Awards.
I also had a brief pity party on my way home from tennis on Sunday. I was playing with friends who all understand my situation and cheer my progress. I hit some good net shots, but my inability to move well just frustrates me.
"Why is it that I'm always recovering from something?" I asked myself.
Well, it's too bad, but at least I am recovering.
With that thought in mind, I got home, took a nap on the couch and felt much better. And that old razzle dazzle of the Tonys, however corny, perked me up considerably.
2 comments:
I am glad that your friends understand. That is really special because there aren't too many tennis ladies who are patient with infirmities.
Dearest Runder-Woman-Sister-Friend,
you do not need the Tonies to razzle and dazzle -- but if that's where you find that, fine...
you razzle and dazzle and bedazzle and, more important, inspire -- and are radiant with hope and...
and your tennis gals are great...
i can just hear Al Gordon saying, "serve them up."
xop
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