Recycling Tennis Balls During Cocktail Hour
I play tennis. A lot.
My husband plays a few days a week too (he’s more employed than I). Between the two of us there are about eight cans of tennis balls being used each week.
Typically I save the old tennis balls and drop them off at the dog park when I’ve filled a grocery sack, but recently I’ve noticed a change in my neighborhood.
Traffic.
Apparently the navigation systems make it easier for folks to meander around the side streets during rush hour. Which is awesome, if you aren’t speeding. I’m noticing that around 5pm there are cars flying down my street.
If you follow me on Twitter, you’d also know that 5pm is the beginning of cocktail hour. Cocktail hour means I get creative and I lose my inhibitions (there weren’t a ton of them to begin with).
Every so often you’ll find me sitting on the bench in my front yard with a bucket of tennis balls and a glass of Merlot. When I hear an engine revving at the end of the street, and I know they’re getting ready for the Grand Prix I calmly dip my hand into the bucket.
And chuck a tennis ball right into the middle of the road.
When the car comes to a screeching halt, freaked out and thinking that a kid might come running after the ball I am deeply satisfied. I sip my wine and listen for the next car.
It’s called recycling.
















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