Article by Lauren Lawley Head
My mother used to wash old tennis balls.
Toward the end of every summer, I would visit our community tennis club and ask the pro if she had any dead balls I could take off her hands. I would deliver a bag to my mother, who would endure the thunderous sound that comes from laundering dozens of tennis balls in a residential washing machine, then pass the lot over to my father so he …
Source: Recruiter
