So Andy Murray lost to Rafael Nadal.
I guess I wanted it to be this way, because I really want to see more Nadal-Federer action, and the only way that happens is for everyone else, including Murray, to be eliminated. But it is still a wrench to see the only Brit left in the tournament, and a Scot (a Glaswegian!), no less, be knocked out. And really, if he had defeated Nadal, I would have been delighted. Gobsmacked, but delighted.
Next year is your year, Andy. I'll switch my allegiance from Federer to you.
The half-witted, half-baked, half-mad ramblings of a widowed, forty-something, earth-loving, commuter-cycling, theatre-going, runner-girl Christ follower. Abandon seriousness, all ye who enter here.
What are we talking about today?
I'll get back to theme days once I find a groove of posting regularly. In the meantime, most of my posts are about some variation of books, bikes, buses, or Broadway. Plus bits about writing, nonprofits, and grief from time to time.
This blog is mostly lighthearted and pretty silly. It's not about the terrible things happening in the world, but please know that I'm not ignoring those things. I just generally don't write about them here.
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