Knees and Hair

 

Today should have been a pickleball day but my knee is on the fritz. It’s been acting up since last Monday’s session and I finally realized that if I’m going to do my part in the roughly 1,500 mile road trip home, I’d better be sensible.

          I miss not just the game, though, but the people I play with. In this area of too many players and not enough courts, I’ve been very lucky. Several years ago, I found myself joining a couple of women from my complex who were playing at another one down the road. These people have a converted tennis court and while they do have several residents who enjoy the game, there aren’t always enough for a foursome, and so they welcome immigrants like us.

          It’s a mixed group, one or two skilled enough to participate in tournaments, but no one is hyper-competitive, and the age range is mostly upper 60s to upper 70s with a few 55+ ringers. The best days are when there’s a generous number of players and we can rotate among ourselves, and even better, sit out a game and chat.

          Now I’m off to take my gimpy knee to the hairdressers for my last Florida haircut. The salon is a big one with two floors. I just hope my stylist isn’t working on the second floor, which would mean negotiating the stairs.