Of Dreams and Tennis Courts

Another country town had its annual town-wide yard sales, so Tom and I traveled miles of country roads  to step upon acres of yards belonging to 1800's farmhouses. 

I probably missed scads of good stuff placed upon tables because with amazing 70 degree breezes upon my face, I stared at the tall, old houses and their barns until I had them memorized and could carry away ideas for my own yard, also.


Here is something I bought for a dollar, something which conjures up the old days:




And while we drove to more yard sales at more farmhouses, that sign behind me made me long for a tennis court of our own. 

There's a bungalow style house near us, which has an old clay tennis court set-off behind it, surrounded by trees and a tall, rusty 'cage'. That place charms me, instantly flashing images of white-clad folks in the 1940's batting tennis balls over the net. 

Always, I think, "What a great place to have a bed-and-breakfast inn." Tom and I usually proceed to wish aloud for a tennis court in our back meadow and we sigh some more and say how cool that would be. And how expensive.

Anyway. We ate lunch at an outdoor rummage sale at a church, circa 1830, on a (normally) quiet hilltop, across from an old white school, and overlooking acres of fields below. And finally, a few more sales later, we grew tired and drove home.

And when I unloaded the tennis court sign from the car,I still craved our own tennis court, even though Tom and I only played tennis one time, when we were first married, and ended the game in a huge argument. (Hence why we've never played again, although 30 years later, the problem would not be potential arguments, but most likely, the fact that we're out-of-shape.) 

But if we had a tennis court, I reasoned? Our overnight guests I'm still seeing inside my head could play.

I stood outside with the sign, facing the barn, wondering if we could hang it there, when the idea hit me. I ran inside to tell Tom about my sudden vision.

"Hey Tom! I know how we can have a tennis court for free!"

"For free?" Tom asked, looking rather doubtful.

"Well, we'd have to buy a net and posts--maybe we could get them at a yard sale, even."

"How could we get a court for free?"

"You know how we're going to have blacktop poured in front of the barn? Well, we could have the guys sink in two post-receivers, or whatever you call them, coming out from the center barn doors. That's a pretty large space out there and I think it would be big enough for a court!"

He smiled. Thought that was a cute idea. He said instead of arena football, we could have arena tennis." (I asked what that meant, and he said arena football is held on a smaller-scale field. Heh.)

Of course, a tennis court wouldn't actually be free-free, but hey. We're going to have the blacktop poured anyway. A net across it and maybe a few painted lines here and there would be like an added bonus for almost nothing.

Dreams. They're exciting. Even if they never come to fruition, still, it's fun playing with ideas inside your head. 

Remember my Secret Garden behind our barn? Well, that's a dream on-hold. I started it but currently, it's a weedy mess. We'll see how that goes.

Anyway, I'm learning to crave balance. To think and work one flower bed at a time, till its completion--but-- to remember all the other flower beds,gardens and house projects and not carry home more projects than I can complete in a summer (or a winter, etc.). 

And to remember that dreams with God's approval happen. My dreams, alone? Oh dear. Good luck.

*****

I loved that adorable little wicker stool at the top of this. It was perhaps my favorite find this weekend, next to the tennis sign, of course. Isn't it sweet?