triumph

Pickling Along

Today was a red letter day in the annals of pickle ball. Today my wife, my very own wife who despises exercise, actually met me at the courts and played the game of the hour.

To my surprise she played well, using a strong backhand, a stroke she doubtlessly developed during the years of whacking her two bull-headed sons upside their respective heads. Unfortunately, the game requires accuracy in placing the ball where the opponent ain't and for that the backhand is not the best stroke. But she learned and gave me two good games; one went to ten—ten.
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