In my last blog post I talked about enlarging my little world.

I started this one with a picture of a tennis ball. 

Those two things could create visions of me sitting court side at the Australian Open or hitting the clay courts on the French Riviera, or at the very least hitting a few balls in the Tuesday morning senior mixed doubles league at Slick Humphrey Park. 

All of the above would be false.

I have been using the thing to try to get a misbehaving Sciatic Nerve under control.  A few years ago a Physical Therapist explained the procedure to Sharyl. It works like this:  You lie in the floor and place the tennis ball under the upper hip/extreme lower back on the misbehaving side and move it around until you find the spot.  How do you know when you’ve found the spot?  Trust me you know, I think my neighbors know when I find the spot.  Just lie there and let the ball apply pressure for a few minutes; you won’t need a timer. I’m not there yet but I think it is getting better.

I probably should go ahead and see a doctor but old habits are hard to break, however for some reason I treat back pain with a little more respect than I did five years ago.  I also feel a little guilty complaining about a little Sciatic Nerve pain.

A few days ago in Morgantown West Virginia a young man’s dream faded.  For the past year Cale has experienced different levels of pain in his pitching arm, because of that pain he made the decision to leave the game.  He is back in Norman and will spend some time regrouping and looking at other options.  He is a sharp young man (I know I’m his Paw Paw) and I am confident he will successfully travel in a new direction, or to use a term I have beat to death over the years he’ll figure it out and be OK.

I made a quick trip to the lake this week. Sitting in the truck for two hours was not good for my back but I’ve never been accused of being real smart or doing what I should.

While there I learned a “lake neighbor” and very good friend had died a few weeks ago.  It was not unexpected but I was disappointed that I didn’t have an opportunity to pay my final respects.  He was in his mid eighties and had lived a full and interesting life.  He was a pipe liner and a rancher and very good at both.  About five years ago he and his wife took their forty-foot diesel pusher RV with Jeep in tow from Brooken, Oklahoma to Alaska.  I think they went to Fairbanks. That trip has always been on my bucket list, but I probably shouldn’t wait until I’m eighty.  Rest in Peace, Gene, I will miss you.   

I said I was going to write more about “now” and less about “then”, I’ve done that.  Maybe next time it will be about something more interesting than lying in the floor on a tennis ball.  Speaking of tennis balls, I need to find that thing it is time for another session.

Thanks for riding along and keep me in your prayers; I’ve come a long way but I still have a long way to go.

Good Night and God Bless

Dave