Talking to you on the phone on a Sunday afternoon. You would have been up at 5a and played a round of golf or a game of tennis, preparing to go upstairs for a nap by the time I was rolling out of bed and pouring my first cup of coffee.
In the later years, it was always golf if the weather allowed. But winter was for tennis (indoor). Almost always with Peter. Who won? I would ask.
On days I assume you had lost: Oh, Amy, it's not about that, we barely even keep score. You know, we're just out there for fun, not competition.
On days when you won: maybe a short prelude about how it's not really about that, then an eager description of the game, the score, that one great backhand you had.
Funny, it seems like you tended to keep score more often on the days you happened to win. Coincidence, I'm sure.
Enjoy the nap.
Love,
Amy
In the later years, it was always golf if the weather allowed. But winter was for tennis (indoor). Almost always with Peter. Who won? I would ask.
On days I assume you had lost: Oh, Amy, it's not about that, we barely even keep score. You know, we're just out there for fun, not competition.
On days when you won: maybe a short prelude about how it's not really about that, then an eager description of the game, the score, that one great backhand you had.
Funny, it seems like you tended to keep score more often on the days you happened to win. Coincidence, I'm sure.
Enjoy the nap.
Love,
Amy
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