Algebra, to the beat now!

God's Boys will be good boys!


I certainly hope that you know how to ask for help. We continually invited you to move your homeworking self to a quieter place. You entered the dance with us and scraped your elbow. You can't "do-si-do" from your seat. I know you finished the homework, but is it right?

Last week's courts were covered with pollen, This week: Polynoses

God's Boys will be good boys!

Forehand grip...Backhand grip...Scratch your back and serve the ball.


Creating a real tennisplayer, out of a barbarian, is a chisel. I gulp and kick myself that I lost so much time, not chiseling out a tennis ettiquette gentleman. You look like a savage! I love you!
GET YOUR HAND OFF OF THE NET! CLOSE THE GATE! NO RUNNING ON THE OTHER PERSON'S COURT! SPEAK SOFTLY AND CARRY A BIG RACQUET!
My father would call you a little "trugledite" in fun, of course. I don't know what else to do, but keep barking out the orders and maybe, one day you will close the gate and stop acting like a hooligan!LOL.

To the "T"

God's Boys will be good boys!

Thank you for visiting the tennis courts with me this morning, Son. I am grateful for the time that we were able to spend with eachother. Silence and enjoyment of the silence are our common quality. Few words and just glances at eachother and the surrounding world. There is something to be said for nonverbal communication. Anybody else would have been bored and had to fill up the car with sound waves and such. Not us! We are a comfortable couple with the silence of love from the mother to her son and opposites.
My dad was sometimes scared of my silence. He would propose that I was thinking mean and viscious thoughts. Nope, I just don't have anything to say. I know that that is the case with you and I. Nothing to say, but, I had a good time whomping you on the courts. I had a good time watching the big boy, who is taller than me growing into a young man of poise and distinguished.
Thanks again, loved one.