‘TWAS A CHILLY SUNDAY MORNING IN SOUTH CAROLINA

And I was nicely snuggled up in bed. It felt like a good time to stay put, stay warm and enjoy some memories.

I readily went back to wonderful memories from our years in Dayton, Ohio. Many of them from times spent at our small social club.

I remember children splashing in the pool and the tennis courts full of competitive but friendly contenders. The “paddle” tennis courts were at the ready, awaiting cold weather and a good snow. There was nary a golf course for miles around.

And then there were the crazy puzzle-ladies.  They’d arrive with their children in tow, send them straight-away into that icy-cold pool, claim a lawn chair and get to work.  Pencils in hand, all energy focused on the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. Each racing to be the first to finish.  Ah, yes. I remember it well.  I was one of those crazy ladies. 

Lunch was always an issue.  Children were hungry and whiny; the tennis players insisted on sustenance and cold beers and the puzzle ladies were anything but happy about all the fuss.

Dining options were few and far between. You could get a cheeseburger, a hot dog, a grilled cheese sandwich or the ever-popular Polo Club Salad.  That last item consisted of a single leaf of ice-berg lettuce, a slice of tomato, a small scoop of cottage cheese and a dill pickle!   And that was that.

It was all perfectly wonderful. The little club was all about family, friendship, and fun. 

But back to the reality of last Sunday morning. Yes, that chilly one, right here in South Carolina.  In reality, I was still tucked into warm blankets. But in my reverie, I was on a lounge chair, good friends nearby, the whack of tennis balls in the distance and I smiled.

But just a few minutes later, on that very same Sunday morning, I finally eased myself from the comfort of those warm blankets, left the reveries for another day, went to the kitchen, turned on the national news and wept.