A week in the heat

Katie came home from Boston Thursday to find me in the garden pulling weeds. I was bent over, dripping sweat, scratching bug bites.

"You look miserable," she said. "Go in and take a shower and I'll finish up." I guess I needed her to come from Boston to state the obvious. At this point I'm not any good at gardening. I trample flowers, and once I even fell on them.

As everyone in these parts knows, the rain was good for the flowers – and weeds. And now the heat just saps your energy. I think I am going to have to break down and call the young woman who weeded for me in the beginning of the season. She did a god job, but I don't feel like spending the money, especially in light of the humongous college tuition bill I have to pay." Really?" You might ask. "You'll splurge on a Broadway show but you won't make life a little easier by paying a small amount for help in the garden?" (Joe is not a candidate because he has been busy mowing the hayfield that was the lawn and also working and umping to earn extra money.)

I once read a newspaper story saying that if you tallied up the amount you spent on buying coffee over the course of a year, you would see that it's a large amount, and therefore you shouldn't do it.

"Really?" my friend Chip said as we got a coffee at one of our favorite spots. "We can't even buy ourselves a cup of coffee?"

Also, I won't turn on the downstairs air-conditioning until I am really really hot. This is partially because of environmental reasons and partly because of the electric bill. I do, however, turn it on in my room, where Maddie and I sleep comfortably. The other day Joe came down to find me lying on the couch, reading a little but mostly dozing off and staring at the ceiling. He went and turned the AC on. Meanwhile, my friend Carolyn, Chip's wife, motivated me to get up by inviting me to drink iced tea on their porch.

Yesterday I was glued to the longest semi-final in Wimbledon history, between Juan Martin del Potro and Novac Djokovic, which Djokovic won in a nail-biter.  Then I wisely packed up my computer and went down to the air-conditioned Thirsty Mind, where I had a cup of coffee and focused on writing my next blog post for Newsmax Health.

Next it was down to Longmeadow to play doubles on the clay courts. At 6 p.m., it was still 91 degrees, but we got a court in the shade, so it wasn't that bad. I am playing pretty well. I hit a searing (for me!) backhand, and my friend Deb asked, "Where did that come from?"

"From watching Wimbledon," I said.

Watching the top players reminds you of things that are valuable not only in tennis but also in life.

Eye on the ball. Follow through. Keep moving your feet.