Tennis Lessons, Cummings Sporting Goods, Shireen Coleman = Fun!

I walk, I go to the gym, I do Pilates at work at lunch when I can fit it into my schedule...but I've never had a sport. I thought about golf, but playing golf is a big commitment, both in time and money. I played a little golf before Francie and Heidi were born, but after they were born I got my workout in other ways. I also didn't want to spend that much free time away from them. I've always really LIKED my kids.

So, when Shireen texted me last week and asked if I'd like to take tennis lessons with her at Terri Pines, the answer was a big YES! I want to do something fun. I want to hit a ball with a racket and then run like crazy to hit it again. And again. And again. Theoretically that's what I'll do.

Of course I needed a racket, some long shorts, and some shoes that would help me fly across the court like a pro. So, off to Cummings Sporting Goods store I went. $160 later, I had my gear. I bought the last and only racket they had in stock, a pair of long shorts, an Under Armor tshirt, some volleyball shoes in Vinemont High School colors because they were the closest to Crimson and White I could find, and a pair of these amazing socks.

I bought volleyball shoes because they didn't have the exact tennis shoes I needed, but they were very helpful and explained why volleyball shoes would be okay on a tennis court, but they cautioned they would wear out faster than real "tennis" shoes. They fixed me up and I had fun in the store - always a plus when you have no clue what you're doing.

Who knew there were special volleyball shoes? I'm always amazed at how much I really don't know about a bunch of things. When I put my tshirt on Francie said, "You got an Under Armor shirt." I asked, "How do you know about Under Armor?" "Everybody does," she said. Well, everybody but me. I must live under a rock.

So, Shireen and I get to Terri Pines and the first thing Danny said to me was, "You must coach volleyball."

Shireen and I looked at each other and laughed out loud. Me? Coach anything? ( I was the drama coach at West Point, but we didn't have special shoes).

So, I asked him, "Why would you think I coach volleyball?"

"You have on volleyball shoes."

I really, really have to get out more.

We had fun. The tennis pro is a hoot. He talks really fast, told us his entire life story in the hour and forty-five minutes we were running and sweating and missing the ball, and he's just such a positive, encouraging guy it was easy to have fun. Two younger women joined us, and even though they had on cute tennis skirts, I decided I like them :-).

Danny told us we should start a league. I told him as soon as I could get the racket to actually connect with the ball...he could sign me up. I frequently have delusions of grandeur - and Chrissy Evert flashed through my mind. Sure, I'll play in a league :-).

Honestly, though, the guy's name is Danny Light and I think his last name describes him perfectly. He is just fun. We heard his entire life story, all about his wife and children, what he does for a living, how many surgeries he's had on his knee (which scared me a little)...and how to volley, serve, backhand, overhand, all that stuff I've never known what it meant. We had a blast.

So, my next big adventure involves learning how to have fun. I think this tennis thing is going to be fun. And good for me. The thing I've learned about going to the gym and working out or walking fast enough so it's difficult to breathe, is that five minutes into whatever the activity - my attitude adjusts. Stress melts away, work issues, personal problems...all that seems easier to manage after a good, hard workout.

And I'm just going to put this out there for the two of you who occasionally read this :-). My REAL goal is to hike the Grand Canyon rim to rim. Now that would be an adventure!

So Today's My Birthday!

So. Here it is. 55. As in 55 years old. How and when did this happen? I want time to slow down a little. I have so much to do and see and be…I know 55 is just a number and I’m actually only one day older than I was yesterday. And I know a woman is, theoretically, not supposed to reveal her true age. But who would I be kidding? I have enough people around me who have known me my entire life who would laugh out loud if I even tried to lie about my age. And what would be the point? So. I'm 55.

I qualify for free coffee at the fast food restaurants. Not that I GO to fast food restaurants – but if I did, they’d give me free coffee. Maybe I’ll start going just for the free coffee.

So. Here I am. 55. I’m trying really, really hard to muster up a little self-pity here. I’m trying to squeeze out an ounce of poor me and maybe even a little tear drop. Trying…trying…NOPE .

All I feel right now is a tremendous sense of freedom. I feel thankful and grateful to God that I’m here and I’m healthy and I have children who love me, friends who love me, the very best sister in the world, a healthy family – my mom and dad are still with me. Yes, my mother drives me nuts sometimes, but I’m so thankful she’s here to celebrate this day with me. Self-pity? Not today. Woohoo…I’m 55. What’s next?

The Next Grand Adventure

We moved when I was young. A lot. I remember one time, when I was about in the 3rd grade, the class assignment was to write a little "THEME" as they were called back then about how many times I had moved. It took Daddy, Talmadge, Mama, and Sue to figure up how many times we had moved. And they figured they had missed a few. The number was 32. And I was in the 3rd grade.

We weren't finished moving. We moved the next year to Florida for six months - where I went to two schools - one for 14 days. I tell everyone I'd find the lunchroom and the bathroom at a school and we'd move. At the end of that six months, we moved back to Denver. Then we moved  three or four more times in the Denver area, and finally, when I was fourteen, we moved to Alabama. I had the best childhood. I had the best people watching over me - Mama, Daddy, Talmadge, Sue, Montez, and Grandma.

Life with Johnny Butler was never, ever dull. I guess all those early moves, and the fact that Daddy never shied away from a challenge, has served as a model for me. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes I have totally missed the point. Daddy is pretty much fearless when it comes to a challenge and a change. So was Mama years ago when she left her home and family in Germany and followed Daddy to rural Alabama. I'm not quite as fearless as I used to be, but I also don't back down from change and challenge. Daddy and Mama have gone through many changes in their lives. The real constant with them has been each other. I'm not so good in that department.

I'll be 55 on Wednesday, and I find myself starting this new phase of my life in an altered set of circumstances. Maybe not quite as fearless as I was when I was 25, 35, 45...but still confident in the Next Grand Adventure. I'm not alone. I have a wonderful, loving, caring family...and I never underestimate the guidance of my Heavenly Father. I figure with a support system like that - the nex 45 years (yes, I plan to live to 100 so I can torture my great, great grandchildren with stories of my youth) - the next 45 will bring more change, more challenge...more adventure!

Do You Need Some Cucumbers?

It's nice to know that in the midst of significant life changes...some things remain the same. It will - someday - rain again, and we'll complain about the rain after a couple of days. Babies will creep, then crawl, then walk and we'll marvel at that progress like it's never been done. The dishes have to be washed, dried, and put away. Clothes washed, dried, ironed. Grass mowed.

And - in true southern fashion - people in our neck of the woods will offer cucumbers, squash, okra, tomatoes, peas - whatever they have, they'll share. That gift of sharing the bounty of their gardens touches me. It makes me so happy I live where I do and so grateful the people whose lives intersect with mine are who they are. Solid, dependable, generous, humble.

Today I visited with a sweet, precious friend. She's one of the smartest, most accomplished women I know. She's successful, self-assured, and funny as all get out. And - she's stuck in her dissertation process. I typed and cried my way through my dissertation three years ago, and it's a lonely, frustrating experience that seems to grow dendrites and take on a nightmarish life of its own. It was like I was stuck in one of those corn mazes people create around Halloween and there really was no way out. So I understand her frustration and I offered to help. She would do the exact same thing for me.

So as we worked through fifty or so pages of corrections (dissertation committees want it right), her phone rang. It was her mother calling. And this is what she said:

"Ask Vicky if she needs any cucumbers."

There it was. The offering. The heartfelt offering of food. It's how southerners show their love, show their appreciation, soothe heartbreaks, connect with one another. This beautiful, gracious, southern Mama brought me a bag of cucumbers - just picked and still warm from the sun.

It was the best gift.

So this evening Francie and I had fresh cucumber salad (made the way my mama makes it), fresh tomato salad (tomatoes from Doug Spradlin's farm), and new potatoes, also from Spradlin's farm.

Comfort food - made much better by the fact that the cucumbers were a gift and that I know the man whose labors produce those sweet, juicy tomatoes and heavenly new potatoes.

Some things change, and that hurts. But that hurt is tempered by the wonderful things that remain the same.

Thanks Leah's Mama...the cucumbers were delicious.

From the Rubble and Ashes...

Francie and I finally made the trek to Tuscaloosa on Sunday. She and Heidi have wanted to go since the moment after the tornado left Tuscaloosa. Heidi was busy with law school stuff, so she couldn't go...but she'll go soon.

I drove while Francie looked and took some pictures. "Oh my God," she said over and over. "I don't know where I am."

We took a couple of wrong turns simply because there were no familiar landmarks. Much like Cullman, beautiful old tree-lined streets are no longer tree-lined or beautiful. Even after more than a month, abandoned cars litter parking lots or are barely visible under piles of rubble and ash.

Sometimes change is like that. Sometimes the only things left after upheaval and change are rubble and ashes. Francie reminded me that Tuscaloosa was home to her and Heidi for four years. It was their town, and they loved being there. They liked to take me where they shopped and ate, and they liked to point out where this happened or that happened...where they all gathered after a ballgame...where they sat in the Ferg. It was their town for four years. Then things changed. They moved on. Heidi just finished second year law school; Francie starts law school in August. Positive change...forward movement. Tuscaloosa was still there - in their memories, but so much fun to visit and so filled with good memories. So even though they have moved on and changed, Tuscaloosa was there.

So, I understand Francie's sadness at seeing the change that happened in the blink of an eye in Tuscaloosa. Homes were lost, businesses destroyed...people died. And maybe the scariest part of change is the loss of familiarity.

But the human spirit is amazing. People volunteered and are still volunteering. In other parts of town, on a hot summer Sunday afternoon, life goes on. Restaurants were open, people were jogging, and high school boys in town for football camp were getting their pictures made with the new Nick Saban statue (so was Francie). So out of the rubble and ashes Change already has taken control of the situation. Life goes on.

Cheri Powell

My friend Cheri Powell is retiring after many, many years of teaching. Cheri is one of those rare people who everyone loves. You won't find a single person who has one bad thing to say about her - and I don't think I've ever heard her say anything bad about anyone. She's just the epitome of a truly nice person.

Yesterday I went to her retirement party at West Point Elementary. I laughed more than I have laughed in a very long time, and I realized why I miss being at a school. There was a sense of real family in the room. I saw and talked to my best friend from high school, and still one of my dearest friends, Rose Ann Thompson. The years fall away when we get together. To me, she looks exactly how she looked in high school - probably because she DOES still look how she looked. She's still beautiful. I saw and talked to so many people who have played so many different roles in my life - and who continue to do so.


Cheri was surrounded by people who love her and she handled every minute of the day the way she handles everything - with humor and grace and style. And while I know she'll miss THIS chapter in her life, I know - without a shadow of a doubt - she'll embrace the NEXT chapter with the same humor, grace, and style.

I want to grow up to be just like Cheri Powell :-). I want to handle THIS life transition of mine with the same humor, grace, and style. Of course I'll never be like Cheri...we're all different...and there is only one Cheri. But I can learn from her and use her as an example.

Thank you, Cheri, for everything you've done for the children and adults in your life so far...take a deep breath...the best is yet to come!