Doubles in Honeysuckle Land

I love playing tennis -- it provides me the opportunity to get my cardio in which my trainer, James Phifer, says I need. Do tell! Doesn't he know in my Honeysuckle Breezeland I call the shots not him? (he loves it when I tell him I hate him - he tends to think he has done his job really well - sicko...)

Oh well, enough of the fantasy and back to reality. (Maybe I sniffed too many honeysuckles in my life.) I hate cardio - except when playing tennis. Anyway, one season the "girls" got together and bought "time" to do winter indoor tennis in the Herndon Tennis Bubble. I was able to improve my game and, after the winter of playing, was ready to head out for the spring, summer, and fall seasons to really get in shape.

My brother showed up that spring with camera in tow and I drug him to tennis to take photos of us. Conveniently, James, played tennis in the court next to us and so my brother also got photos of him. That summer, as gifts for the girls and James, four individual tennis photo albums were put together. This was fun since I was able to make the books similar but used different basic colors on each one. ONCE again, I used my Basic Grey papers along with sports rub-ons and wood accents from Michaels. Go figure this one. Four albums done in a short period of time for the tennis season of 05-06. One photo album left to do.... Guess who's! Yes, mine. I need to figure out why it is so easy to whip these little albums out and then come to a complete halt when it comes time to make mine. I know it is buried in my psyche. I use to do this when sewing cross-stitch projects. Many people have my cross-stitches which I sewed with love.... but never got around to making one for me. Eventually that did change and I do have a collection of "samplers" hanging around the homestead in Honeysuckle land.

I loved the blue in Ann Marie's album, the green in Mary's, the multi color in Betty's and the 7-gypsy distressed one for James. Betty and I, that season, were not only the oldest players but the least accomplished at playing tennis. We discovered toward the middle of the season we really needed to think our strategy out to beat the young ones. In other words, play dirty and get the point anyway you can. Betty is a beautiful soul -- so in the end, it was me who had to do the dirty work...... drop balls over the net, pretend to get ready to hit the overhead slam really hard, get that fierce look on my face and begin grunting and making weird noises (ok I am getting carried away with this narrative) and then - BAM - drop that ball right over the net while the young ones scurry back to the base line to take the speeding missile as it passes by. Well not quite - Venus Williams has nothing to worry about.....

Yes, there is a back story to these little tennis stories. I have to admit that we are in the time of an anniversary of a sort -- I started working out with James on July 4, 2001 ( a date that will live in infamy). He worked hard for his dollars since I have a stubborn streak - no kidding Sherlock! Bet you wouldn't guess that would you? The summer of 03 James tried to get me interested in tennis but my energy level was low. I would run out of breath on the court, have trouble going up the three flights of stairs to my condo, ran out of breath going upstairs to my bedroom, could not let my beloved Cricket (my last cat) sleep on my chest without trouble breathing, and finally, in desperation, stopped smoking cause I thought that was the problem and I really wanted to play tennis. Anyway on October 17, 2003, I had open heart surgery to replace an aortic valve that was pretty badly damaged - like it degenerated over a short period of time - the doctors had no idea why I was still walking around. The week before I called 911 to bring a little dose of oxygen over to me, James and I was pumping my heart up to 144 beats and then resting to get it back down to 100 - all on the exercise bike. I am a glutton for punishment! As far as I'm concerned, James saved my life with his pushing, harassing, and nagging to get me to lift heavier weights, begin introducing cardio into my life, getting me to give up my mac/cheese for fish..... on and on and on.

Yes, I do believe that between James and God, I didn't have much of a chance except to make it through surgery and then heal quickly. After a quick recovery period, my heart came back with a vengeance - not much damage - and I felt so damn good and was just so tickled pink to be able to go running around a tennis court like a kid. Look mommy, I'm running and hitting a stupid yellow ball. Do tell. After five years of living with this mechanical valve, all I can say is what a ride it has been. I love every single moment of it and I give thanks each day! OK, enough already, I have to go play tennis. Thanks for stopping by! ; ) Love ya and all that stuff!