Two years ago we did some landscaping in the back yard. One year ago, the crab tree died because I didn’t know it needed extra water. We replaced it with another one. This year… blooms!

The lilac bushes have doubled in size and still smell amazing. We put a little park bench in the corner last year which I intend to sit on more this year. Also, you can see the irisis coming up in the lower left corner that I moved from another bed last fall. Since I didn’t kill them, the other half will be moved this fall and then I can finally properly contain and/or rip out those annoying ornamental grasses and redo that section of the yard next year.

And I can never get enough of the flowers the previous owner planted outside the front door. Purple and blue everywhere with just that one little pop of red. Gorgeous.

We have a lot of projects lined up for the yard this year, including fixing three large swaths of dead lawn where we think someone laid down some weird grass, moving and enlarging the vegetable garden, and putting on a deck. A friend recently gave us some rhubarb plants that have found a new home at the back corner of the house. I’m told they could survive a nuclear explosion, so I’m looking forward to making some pie later in the year.

Oh yes, and repairing the screen door that Ozzy punched a whole through so he could escape back INTO the house. The world is a scary place sometimes, however lovely.

It’s about time to dust off old the keyboard again and way past time for a new look. I wonder what will crawl out of my head this year?

A standard Ultimate Frisbee team must include a minimum of four guys and four gals. Although only seven team members are in play at any given time, one team or the other gets to decide whether it is formed with three gals or four, unless both teams agree on an alternate configuration. Now guess how many of us gals showed up for game two. Three. I no longer remember how many guys turned out, but it was at least five. Point being, they had relief players.

Luckily, the other team that day was having the same dilemma, so it was an easy choice for the team captains. Three guys and three gals from each team would be in play. Um, exqueeze me? Do you not remember the last game, with the breathing and running and the quantum physics calculations? Well, okay, but… you say you’ll shave your head if we win? Look out, pretty boy. It’s ON.

And, miracle of miracles, it actually was! The other team was as well matched in age as they were in numbers, so the running, though still present, was much more friendly and relaxed. Suddenly, I found myself catching and throwing consistently in the right directions (though still to the enemy as often as not), and guarding like a fiend. This wasn’t like the first game at all. This was… what’s the word? The thing with the smiling and not needing to swear a blue streak just to keep yourself moving. Wait, wait, don’t tell me. Ah, yes, I remember now. Fun.

It wasn’t long before the score was 6 to 3. By half time, the gals on both sides were clearly beginning to get droopy, so the captains decided to switch the mix to four guys and two gals for the rest of the game. Why they didn’t do that from the beginning I will never understand but, since I was still feeling so good, I made it my personal goal to stay in the whole game. I was on fire again, but this time it felt good. The other team had better stamina in the second half though and we tied it up at 11′s and again at 12′s, eventually conceding at 12 to 14. Having won my own personal victory, I was happy to grant them their well deserved win.

On the way home, I began to worry about what I had just done to myself, experiencing bouts of tunnel vision that kept me driving more carefully than usual, though I was feeling amazingly good otherwise. I chalked it up to low blood sugar and, after some dinner and another long soak in a hot salt bath, collapsed into bed, content. It wasn’t until five days later at game three when I tried to run out on the field and my quads immediately started screaming that I realized the full extent of my foolishness. Long gone are the days when I could go from no activity to pretend athlete and think nothing of it. I was forced to sideline myself for the rest of the game after the first play. Two days later, I still couldn’t play, though my left leg seems usable now if I’m careful. So now I’m trying to stretch every day so I’ll be able to get back in the game next week.

Being out of shape is lame. Har har.