So the other day, I called Steggy and she told me that she was in some pain and incapacitated, both of her ankles heavily iced. In fact, she had ice packs duct-taped to her ankles, because they became so swollen during her drive from the holler in Tennessee to Houston (the entire family China collection rattling, banging and clacking in the back seat: think National Lampoon Tennessee Vacation!).
So I asked her how she's sitting for comfort.
"Oh," she replied, in her trademark world-weary, blase tone. "Cross-legged. In my chair."
As our own Hillbilly Princess might write: Smacks forehead with palm. . .
You'll be happy to hear that mysterious condition has vanished; I know, because I just called her in a panic over not being able to connect to the internet, and she fixed me right up. Her only problem now is to find another use for duct-tape (Up around the game-rich farm in Andes, BTW, duct tape is called Delaware County Chrome. Thems my peeps. . .), which Steggy must buy rolls the diameter of a 60-gallon steel drums. I'll be she's got a haz-mat suit lying around somewhere, too.
Anyway, despite the rain, I'm heading out the National Tennis Center soon, and I'll be posting some thoughts from there by early this evening. Who knows, we may even see a little tennis? Catch you all later. . .and thanks for those expressions of support and sympathy. Y'all make it worth every minute!