Notes from the Red Bird House

I suppose there may come a day when I will think I'm too old. What age will that be? Fifty? Sixty-seven? Eighty-two? One hundred and five? I wonder... Because...there's a part of me that believes, if I keep moving, keep thinking, keep creating, I can be truly ageless. They say it'll catch up to me, though I'm still not sure what "IT" is. Age? Frailty? Weakness? I can't believe it'll happen. I can't. I have to believe in the exact opposite. I have to believe that it won't, that it can't. The mind, the brain - they get in the way. People say, "I'm twenty five. I'm too old." Then they're forty and still too old. Then sixty, then... It never ends. I'd rather take age out the equation. Since turning forty - an age when many are packing it in - I restarted my tennis career, wrote my first short story, completed my first novel, finished my master's degree, ran four half marathons, and donated ten inches of my ha

Doubles Exception List: For tennis players in a committed doubles partnership, a list of people they are allowed to play doubles with. (definition courtesy of Stacee Ann Harris) For the first time since college, approaching the twenty-five year mark, I have a committed doubles partnership. It's just a small thing - we play once a week in a recreational league together - but I have to say it's definitely something I've missed. A doubles partner can be many things - teammate, friend, shrink, life coach, personal trainer, cheerleader, mind-reader, and fire fighter. The bonds are strong, loyalty fierce. At some point, "she" and "me" invariably become "we". WE win or WE lose; WE play well or WE play poorly. Her movements become mine and mine hers; we move as one, perfectly in sync.  I came through high school a singles player. In fact, my high school coach made it known that I would NEVER be a good doubles player. I have to admit, I w