I’m not really gloating because we are still in a drought out here in Northern California and no one in their right mind wants to be in a drought … but January has been beautiful and February is starting out the same. There’s been a lot of moisture from fog and overnight frost but no real rain. So panic is setting in.

Pickle ball mania has taken over my section of the world. It’s basically tennis for people who no longer want to run all over the court chasing balls. Basically, older people. So yesterday I decided to try it along with a couple of friends I’ve had for decades. They’d been in touch with a woman from our old adult soccer team who said she’d teach us. I hadn’t seen the lady in thirty years and thus, did not recognize her. Our conversation went like this:

Me: Are you the one who backed up into a pole and smashed her Mercedes?

Deb: No!!! I’ve never owned a Mercedes! I’m an engineer! Are you the lady who lost her baby at one of our soccer matches?

Liz: That was me. I lost Daniel.

Me: Oh yeah. That was the CFO who smashed her Mercedes.

Pat: That was Susan. She came with that guy who was always getting injured.

Me: The tax attorney. He told me he didn’t feel like he’d gotten enough exercise unless he got injured!

Deb: Speaking of taxes, did they ever throw your ex-husband into prison?

Me: No, somehow he got out of it. But he got into some other shenanigans.

Pat: I bet. Didn’t we find the baby sleeping under a blanket?

Eventually we did get to playing the game … in a way. A pickle ball game is considered successful if you can sustain a volley instead of land “winners.” So it’s fun. Relaxed and not at all serious. Especially if you’re remembering fun times from long ago when you were all young.