Rog seemed a little out of sorts this morning himself, nearly collapsing out of Wimbledon in the first round. And yet somehow he found a way to win, which is what a champion does, I guess. I don't think his pride would let him fail. He certainly had the commentators in a lather, though, waxing about his potential loss being "the biggest upset in Wimbledon history."
As Enberg likes to say, "Oh, my!" As I like to say, "Oh, brother!"
Still cloudy and unseasonably cool here. Not like summer at all. But I'm not really complaining. Why bother to complain? One of the words at A.Word.A.Day last week was pluvial. That's the only way to describe the ridiculous rain we've had. But we haven't had any major floods. Muddy boots are not the same thing as houses washed away. And lost revenue can't be compared to human loss. So I'm not complaining about the rain, either. Again, what would be the point?
Amanda comes tomorrow, after four (or five?) weeks, and I'm looking forward to the pain. My shoulder has improved so much, and despite what that orthopedist said last February, I think her massage treatment *does* help. I feel like my range of motion is getting close to acceptable, and I barely have any pain now.
I have so much I want to do this week: Clean the house, get a new car, work out like a fiend, write fanfic, watch tennis and maybe even play tennis. It's fun to have the choice of what to do again.
For those of you on Facebook, you probably saw that I *did* ride the Big Sling on the last day of the festival. It was a wild and wacky thing, feeling a little like slow motion and not all that scary. Sorta surreal. I'm glad I did it. Funny how much I stressed it for all those weeks. I think I'd do it again! If I had a picture handy, I'd post it.
Well, we're gonna rush off to a movie, to see 'Robin Hood' again before it disappears completely. Hope I don't fall asleep in the middle, because I seem to nod off at the drop of a hat these days.