The Topic Was Pickleball

The morning was a bit chilly and the slant of the light was quite different than it had been all summer when we headed up to the pickleball court around 8:30 this morning. It had been more than a couple of weeks since we played, and it showed as we warmed up. 

Even so, we played a pleasant game and were ready to start our second when a couple of women showed up and claimed the court as reserved. They allowed that it would be fine for us to play on the other court, but one of them had a medical reason for staying in the shade. 

We were willing to move over, though, and were just about to get started when an acquaintance strolled by with her two dogs, and the three of us spent 20 minutes or so catching up. We hadn't talked to her since she retired, and it didn't seem from this conversation that she was loving her life of leisure. "You just have to make sure you have reasons to get up and leave the house," she reported in a bit of a sour tone. "Or at least have something you love to do." She sighed and looked at us. "I would like to take up this game," she gestured to the court, "but I simply can not stand the sound of that ball hitting the paddle." She shook her head in dismay and bade us good-bye with a half-hearted, "Enjoy your game." 

After that, the other two ladies on the court asked if we would be interested in playing doubles. Introducing ourselves, we side-stepped the question of where, exactly, we lived. "Did you say your name was Heidi and you are a teacher?" asked one of them. "Did you ever work at Skyline?"

"I thought I recognized you!" Heidi replied, and it turned out that one of our opponents was Heidi's hair stylist 25 years ago. 

We talked for quite a while before we actually played a game, rambling from the local pickleball controversy to the color of the court lines to rumors of quieter paddles and balls being designed. 

Maybe that would get our other friend out of the house!