Those of you who know me know I am not one who is known for her speed. "That Toni's got wheels" is not something anyone would ever say about me. I am reminded of my Deluxe softball days and, in thinking back, can still feel Tom Finocchiaro's hot breath on the back of my head, his hand gently but firmly pushing me in the back, trying to get me to run faster around the bases. Tom always batted cleanup. I was often up just before him and could be counted on for a single most of the time. I would get myself to first. Then Tom would hit me in with a colossal smash. Before I could reach second base, he was on my tail. That's how fast he was and how slow I was. "C'mon Toni," he would say from about one foot behind me. Sometimes he would even clip the backs of my heals with his toes. "Let's go! Keep going! You can do it. Run faster." If he'd only known how hard I was working to go that slowly.
On a tennis court, however, I do have wheels. In fact, I can be pretty quick if I don't say so myself. Tennis does not require sprinter's speed. It does require quickness. Snappy reflexes, decent footwork and getting an early bead on the direction of the opponent's ball are more important than miles per hour. So my stubby gams actually surprise people on the tennis court as I am able to get to a lot more balls than my opponent thinks I can. I think even the still-too-young-to-legally-drink instructor was impressed today as I chased down several of his shots, shots he actually hit all out just to see how we'd react. I hit them back. A couple I even hit back for winners.
I am now in excruciating pain. My right shoulder is aching and my left Achilles is tight as floss and swollen into a knot the size of a golf ball. I still have the skills, but the body parts aren't quite as resilient as they once were. Ah but no pain, no gain, right? A few more weeks of wailing on the ball and I should be feeling stronger. Either that or I will be experiencing intensive care at a local medical facility.
Ron has been a tilling and scooping fool on the tractor for the last few days. He's made a small but healthy dent in a giant, overgrown dirt pile on the property and has used that dirt to fill in some holes we discovered when we cleared a section out of the middle of the yard. The worst part of tilling is the amazingly strong and long grass strands that get entangled in the tiller. It takes about an hour of clipping and pulling to get it all out once the tractor's ready to call it quits for the day.
My mom tells me temperatures in the Great Pacific Northwest have topped 100 degrees for the past three days. Unbelievable. I remember getting a smattering of really hot days there every summer growing up, but never in June. August maybe, but never June. Thankfully, it's suppose to cool off tomorrow. Not many people there have air conditioning in their homes, so the reprieve from the heat will be very welcome. They oughta come to the tropics to cool off.
That's it for today. A hui hou. Aloha!
On a tennis court, however, I do have wheels. In fact, I can be pretty quick if I don't say so myself. Tennis does not require sprinter's speed. It does require quickness. Snappy reflexes, decent footwork and getting an early bead on the direction of the opponent's ball are more important than miles per hour. So my stubby gams actually surprise people on the tennis court as I am able to get to a lot more balls than my opponent thinks I can. I think even the still-too-young-to-legally-drink instructor was impressed today as I chased down several of his shots, shots he actually hit all out just to see how we'd react. I hit them back. A couple I even hit back for winners.
I am now in excruciating pain. My right shoulder is aching and my left Achilles is tight as floss and swollen into a knot the size of a golf ball. I still have the skills, but the body parts aren't quite as resilient as they once were. Ah but no pain, no gain, right? A few more weeks of wailing on the ball and I should be feeling stronger. Either that or I will be experiencing intensive care at a local medical facility.
Ron has been a tilling and scooping fool on the tractor for the last few days. He's made a small but healthy dent in a giant, overgrown dirt pile on the property and has used that dirt to fill in some holes we discovered when we cleared a section out of the middle of the yard. The worst part of tilling is the amazingly strong and long grass strands that get entangled in the tiller. It takes about an hour of clipping and pulling to get it all out once the tractor's ready to call it quits for the day.
My mom tells me temperatures in the Great Pacific Northwest have topped 100 degrees for the past three days. Unbelievable. I remember getting a smattering of really hot days there every summer growing up, but never in June. August maybe, but never June. Thankfully, it's suppose to cool off tomorrow. Not many people there have air conditioning in their homes, so the reprieve from the heat will be very welcome. They oughta come to the tropics to cool off.
That's it for today. A hui hou. Aloha!
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