Routine? What Routine?

It's been a busy week. Wait, back up. Can I really say that with a straight face? I mean, I haven't had work deadlines, I haven't been chained to the computer, I haven't billed any hours, I haven't produced any work product. At. All.

But what I have done? Is many hours of yard work. And many loads of laundry. And baked a couple (multiple!) batches of cookies, with another new recipe in the near future. I've played tennis while the sun was up, I've played Words with Friends at strange times during the day. I've got a huge load of stuff to take to Goodwill, and the house isn't too far from being ready for folks to come over. In fact, we had some friends stop by last night, and I was able to bring them into the kitchen/den without batting an eye. Progress, baby.

I've picked the kids up early from school, and I haven't felt quite as scattered as I have in the past. I won't say I'm approaching the "O" word quite yet (that's organized for those of you with your minds in the gutter), but there's a bit of hope there.

So yeah. It's been a really busy week. And just like a normal workweek, it's 4:30 on Friday and I love the feeling of the week winding to a close. There's a ton of fun stuff to look forward to this weekend, and while I'd love to be sipping a glass of wine right now, J and I have a mixed doubles match later tonight (we're playing a tournament together - hopefully we won't kill each other). I'm gonna guess he wouldn't be too happy with a partner that showed up sloshed, although there ARE some folks out there who play better with a beer or two.  But I digress.

Mixed doubles tournament, baseball/tball, annual Memorial day BBQ at J's house on Sunday, relatives and friends in town, Riverfest and fireworks, homemade pizza with friends on Monday - yup. It's gonna be a great weekend. See you on the flip side, if not before.

Skirt Action

J and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary last night. The actual date was Monday, but we had too much going on earlier in the week so we pushed to last night. We went to the Capital Bar here in LR and had a drink, then had dinner at Ashley's. It was a very nice night out. 

It's been a while since we've gone out somewhere nice, and I got the urge to dress up a little. Now, that happens VERY RARELY to me. Even rarer is the notion that I might actually wear something that shows some leg - you know, like a skirt. Unless we're talking tennis, of course. But I thought it would be kind of fun, so I went through my closet yesterday to see what kind of skirt action I had.

I found one single solitary non-work skirt. I'm so not a skirt person.

I pulled out the one skirt - black - and tried it on. I could be wrong, but I think I bought that skirt to wear to some friends' wedding in Vegas. Right after law school. NINE years ago. Pre-kids, pre-gray hair, pre-30s. There is still a picture floating around here somewhere of J and I at that wedding reception. We look achingly young. Hard to remember life before kids and gray hair sometimes...

But another thing? I don't remember the damn skirt being quite so short back then, either. I know there is fashion protocol for those of us in our mid 30s and how long skirts and dresses are supposed to be -to the knee, past the knee, whatever. This one wasn't even in the same area code as the knees, but I didn't have anything else, so screw it.

With all the exercise I've been doing lately? It probably looked better last night than it did 9 years ago, and no fashion police descended upon me during the evening to pass judgment on its length. (Probably because they knew it was a waste of time - I have no fashion sense what.so.ever.) But I still may consider adding a few additional skirts to the wardrobe. One more ought to do it for the next 10 years, don't you think? Cause really? I don't think I'll be wanting to rock the miniskirt when I'm approaching mid 40s.  Then again, I don't like to shop and I'm pretty damn lazy, so you never know...

Early

Last night, I cratered around 10:30 after too many hours of yard work, grocery stores, and baseball games. At 5:30 this morning, I was wide awake. So I got up and did what always SOUNDS nice but rarely happens - made a cup of coffee, and sat on the back deck in the quiet morning before the world got up. Pandora was generous and gave me Mumford and Son's "Awake My Soul," there's an amazing breeze right now, and the stillness is restorative.

It's supposed to storm later today, J and I are going out for our anniversary dinner tonight (we hit 13 years on Monday!), B graduates from kindergarten tomorrow night, there are more tball and base ball games and a busy weekend ahead. But for a few minutes, the morning was mine.

I was right. I really SHOULD do this more often.

Icing on the Weekend Cake

The icing on the weekend of frustration? I managed to pull a muscle in my ass. Now I'm hobbling around like I'm 100 years old. Fan-freaking-tastic. I guess it's better than the last time I pulled a muscle like this, though. I was 9 months pregnant and apparently rolled over in bed the wrong way. It sounds a lot better to say I pulled an ass muscle playing tennis, as opposed to rolling over in bed.

Baking Fail

Never, EVER make a batch of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies on a Sunday, knowing that you will be the only one home with them all day every day that week. It's just not a smart idea.

Drama and Alabama

I hate drama.

There was far too much drama this weekend in my life, and most of it wasn't even mine!

My tennis team played in our state tournament this weekend, so I guess it's to be expected. Nerves and emotions were running high, the rain totally fucked up any semblance of a schedule, and the weekend was just a mess. I'm really kinda glad it's over.

So, in bullets:

• Saturday morning: our 8am match, which I was not supposed to play in, was delayed by nearly 2 hours. I went out to the courts in full tennis garb with rackets anyway, for a couple of reasons. One, the other team wouldn't know which one of our singles players would be playing if we had three or four singles players show up ready to play; two, you never know what might happen at the last minute; and three, I could help warm up the folks who were playing and cheer them on during matches. 
  
  There was a curly shuffle of the lineup that morning, and for about 2 hours I was going to sub in for a singles player who was not feeling well. After sitting around for 2 hours waiting for the courts to dry, though, she felt well enough play. So mentally, my brain wasn't really sure what to think, 'cause playing that match would've easily meant two long hours (if not more) of intense tennis. I'm playing, time to get serious! Wait, no I'm not! Wait, yes I am! Wait, no, I'm not! That's draining.
 
• One of the matches Saturday morning was an absolute catfight match from hell. One of our singles opponents (call her Sue) has only been in the LR area since last fall, but she's already garnered a reputation for bad line calls and a generally bad attitude. I would have loved a chance to play her this weekend, but the stars did not align properly and another singles player on our team played her. And honestly, after watch the way that match unfolded? I'm VERY happy to have not played her, and even happier that this chick is not on our team.
  
  There were accusations thrown, bad line calls, nasty behavior, and it was unfortunately on both sides of the court, which just sucks. One of the funnier episodes, though, occurred when Sue started yelling at some random bystanders behind the court because they were "talking too loudly." Now, I was sitting back there watching the match, and they weren't being loud. In fact, I hadn't really even noticed them until S started coming unglued. But what was even better was when one of the the bystanders fired back with the comment: "You're just yelling at us because you're frustrated with your game. If I were playing that badly and were losing with that score? I'd be frustrated too. Maybe you should pay more attention to your game rather than us back here." It. Was. Awesome. It was all I could do not to crack up, because this bystander had no stake in the match, she wasn't on either of our teams, she just called it like she saw it. And what she said was true. If you are truly focused on the match, you won't hear anything going on around you. But if you are frustrated and having trouble? That will bug the shit out of you. Maybe I was more focused on her match than she was...
  
  At any rate, that was one of about 10 different conflicts that happened just during that one match. By the end of the match, a grievance was filed, a line judge was called, both teams were wrung out and the players looked like they were going to have to be physically separated. On the plus side, that individual match meant nothing because my team had already won three of the five matches. But that match wasn't about the tournament anymore; it was about pride. And it was ugly
 
• So after the match was over, I managed to tick J off ten minutes before he left town for the night with the girl to go to our nephew's birthday party in Jonesboro. There was no time to resolve anything, so I got to stew on that after he left. B stayed home because he was sick, and my team still had another match to play in the afternoon. I managed to miss a text from my captain (it never went through) about a court location change, so I had to haul ass from a Little Rock tennis venue to a North Little Rock venue in under 15 minutes in order not to get defaulted from the match or pulled from the lineup. I left a bunch of rubber on the highways between Rebsamen and Burns, and was damned lucky there weren't any cops out.
  
  By the time my match started, I was as far away from finding a zone as I could possibly be. I ended up winning, but it was an ugly match that started ok and just got more frustrating as the match went on. I was just wrung out from the day. All done, thankyouverymuch.
 
• There were a bunch of other little things that happened over the course of the weekend. People who got their feelings hurt, miscommunications, more rain, and more frustration, and then cookies and beer. In the end, if you're still reading, my team managed to eke out a win for the tournament. We won by four games. Yes, that's GAMES, not sets, not matches, GAMES. It came down to counting games lost between our team and one other team to determine who gets to go to sectionals in July. We lost four fewer games (everything else was tied) than they did.
• Mobile bound, baby. See you in July. We'll bring the rackets and drama, you bring the heat and humidity. And I have a good excuse to keep exercising for the next few months.

Exercise in Frustration

I have a group of friends who help keep each other accountable on the exercise front by emailing each day's workouts and giving support and/or hell as warranted. Yesterday, I didn't have what would be considered a normal workout, but if I were putting it in my normal email?  This is how it would go:

• 100 bicep curls (removing excess algae from large koi pond with a heavy duty rake)
• 3 verbal exercises (cussing upon discovering dead frog and dead fish in the pond, evidence of a sick pond)
• 5 verbal exercises (managed to dislodge waterfall pump and pipe while attempting to remove excess algae from pond; not a good thing at all when fish are in desperate need of oxygen while algae and dirt is being stirred up)
• 50 squats (while attempting to repair above broken water pipe in pond and failing miserably)
• 1 balance check, followed by numerous verbal exercises (almost falling in pond while attempting to repair said water pipe)
• 20 sprints (back and forth to power source to turn on water pump and determine if half-assed improvisation worked to continue oxygenating pond - it eventually did)
• 10 right arm rows (starting lawn mower)
• 10 minutes brisk to slow walking (walking behind lawn mower, starting fast and getting slower and slower and slower and...)
• 10 verbal exercises (mower died when lawn was half mowed and looked like crap)
• 1 driving exercise (to gas station to get fresh gas)
• 10 verbal exercises (after discovering that old gas was in fact not the problem with the mower)
• 1 driving exercise (to hardware store to get maintenance kit for mower)
• 10 squats (changed air filter on mower)
• 5 hallelujahs (after mower appreciated fresh air filter and started)
• 30 minutes brisk walk behind mower

Total Workout Time: 5+ Frustrating Hours.
Calories Burned:  Not Important, but pretty sure verbal exercises burned the most.
Recovery drink: Whiskey and Soda.  Well earned.

18 Years

A few weeks ago, I did a tennis drill with a pro and some women on my tennis team at a club in Little Rock. Drills typically involve hitting a million and one balls at the same time you are running your ass off. They will wear you out.

The day of the drill, I had a pretty good outing and was able to demonstrate that I knew a little about handling a tennis racket. At the end of the drill, the pro asked me if I'd be interested in hitting with any of his junior players.

Now, I played junior tennis. I know what it means to be "the old one." I played a few of them when I was a junior, and it was always awkward and strange. We never had much in common, and they were never as serious and always talked about how much "older" they were or how they couldn't do this or that because of their age. It was uncomfortable. They never hit very hard, either.

So these were the thoughts that ran through my head a split second before I told the pro, "Sure! I'd love to!" And I meant it, even though I would now be "the old one". The difference between club or league tennis and junior tennis is that the juniors hit the shit out of the ball, and club players get the ball back one more time, sometimes with no pace at all. I played enough junior tennis that I still love to hit hard, but I don't get the opportunity as much anymore, so I jumped on the chance.

Last night, I played one of the pro's juniors. I was hoping I could sort of skirt the age issue and approach it as just two people who enjoy playing tennis. No dice. When I got to the club, the pro and the junior I was to play were hanging out in the clubhouse with a bunch of other junior players.  The pro grabbed my racket, held it up, and made the comment to D, the junior, "if you lose today, it will be the oldest racket you've ever lost to." Greeeat. So much for not bringing age v. youth into it. We can ignore the fact that my racket is damn near as old as she is. It's a great racket.

After this little moment, we hit the court to play a few sets. We chatted very little beforehand, mostly about the Foo Fighters concert she was going to last night. At least I wasn't totally clueless about that, even though I am more than twice her age. Sheesh. When did I get so old. What made it even worse was when I asked her if she had had a group lesson or something earlier, and she responded "no, but I did have a private lesson earlier and worked out at D1 already." So I was her third workout of the day.  Good lord, did I really have that much energy 18 years ago?

But once we started hitting, I felt a lot better. My groundstrokes were as solid as hers, although I wasn't generating quite as much power. Her serve was hard as hell, but inconsistent. We fought pretty hard the first set, and I managed to take it 7-5. I completely lost my serve and mental state the second set and lost 6-2. But I got a set, and I don't think it was a complete embarrassment.

After I got home last night, I started wondering where she was ranked in the state in terms of junior players. It's been so long since I've played, I had no idea where she might fall. As it turns out? She appears to be ranked #2 in 18yo girls in the state. Once upon a time, 18 years ago, that was me. Nice to know all the work back then is still paying off today. Even if I do have some gray hair, a couple of kids, and a markedly decreased endurance level. I'm pretty damn happy to have scored a set. And maybe slightly sore...

What's Up?

It's been a strangely busy week or so! My last day of work isn't officially until May 31, but the volume of work has dropped to nearly zero in the last few weeks.  NOT that I'm complaining or anything!

But all those things I used to wish I could get done instead of working? Now I don't really have much excuse not to do them. Funny how that works...

The house we are living in is at least 15, maybe 20 years old, so there is a decent amount of upkeep that is necessary. It was pretty solidly built as far as we can tell, but as with any house, there are just things that need a little TLC over time.

So, bullet format (because I'm drawing a blank on anything more substantive), here is what I've been working on lately:

• Yesterday, I found myself in the crawlspace under the house, dust mask and flashlight in hand, retaping insulation that has come apart from the A/C ducts. It wouldn't be so bad, but there was a lot of rat shit everywhere - not my favorite thing. I also spent about 20 minutes inspecting underneath the house for leaks, evidence of problems, etc. It's amazing what you can learn when you follow the piping for your house.
• Yesterday, I also caulked a problem spot in the master bath shower that has been causing us trouble from day 1. Let's just ignore the fact that day 1 happened 2.5 years ago, and that it took less than 15 minutes to fix... Now, as long as the fix actually works and stops the water leak into the crawlspace, I'll be happy.
• I also investigated tiling to put down in the master bath. A lot of this house has been updated fairly recently, but the master bath is an early 1990s throwback. We're planning on completely ripping out and redoing the shower, putting down new tile, new vanities, and a new tub. How much of this I will do is still up in the air, but we know for a fact that someone is going to have repair the subfloor where the leak has been occurring for the last 2.5 years. Yay. I can say with certainty that that will not be me repairing the subfloor.
• Random yard work has also occurred. Our neighbors probably hate our guts for letting the lawn go over the past few years. We just haven't had time to work on it, and with all the trees in our yard? It looks like a damn jungle.
• Cleaned out the gutters I could reach, and discovered there are some spots in the roof that are gonna need attention ASAP.
• Discovered two dead trees in the back yard that need to come down ASAP.

Honestly, I could go on, but I'm starting to depress myself with the balance of what has occurred v. what needs to occur.

Interesting life I lead, eh? Feel free to come help out, maybe I'll stumble on something more interesting to write about...

Weekend Amusements

So, a couple of amusements in the last few days.

• I played tennis one night last week at the Athletic Club in Little Rock. The courts are surrounded by honeysuckle, which smells heavenly right now. Every now and then, the fragrance would drift on to the court, and I'd feel like I was playing in Hawaii, where everything smells incredible. I was amazed that I was the first one to comment on the wonderful smell, and no one else had noticed it before I mentioned it. What gives, ya'll? It was incredible out there!
• So this same doubles match involved me and another lady who is about my age, and two other women who are probably in their 50s. One of the older ladies was doing us quite the favor, as she was usually well into her nightly glass of wine by the time we played that evening. I commiserated.
  
  The second older lady, a tall brunette in full makeup and perfect hair, is one of those women who epitomizes the sassy southern woman. The perfect combination of sweetness and smartass, with the amazing southern drawl that only someone who lives here can appreciate. Her voice usually precedes her presence on the court, so you know when she's coming. She's unapologetic about her voice, cussing, and pretty much anything else. That's just who she is, and she's hilarious.
  
  Late in the match, I was trying to buckle down and serve out a game. I'd struggled a little during the match, mainly because I wasn't as focused as I should have been. It was just a practice after all, but I needed to bring my game back around. So I settled in for the first point, served a nice serve to the tall brunette and won the point. As I gathered the balls for the next point, I could hear her across the court talking to herself, expressing frustration with the previous point.  I was getting set up to serve the next point as she continued her tirade against her missed service return, and she capped it off with a fabulously drawled, self directed "yeww dumbahhss."
  
  I proceeded to double fault the next two points as I was laughing too hard to pull my shit back together. I love playing tennis in the south, and I love these women. I've never had so much fun playing matches.
• Outside of the tennis front, J and I went to a crawfish boil this weekend up in Bentonville. It was friggin' COLD. Fortunately, there were lots of warming beverages, a fire pit, and interesting people. I got to watch my first game of beer pong - guess I can chalk that one up to one of life's experiences? No, I didn't play. I wasn't looking for a hangover this weekend, and I don't particularly care for beer, so it wasn't really worth it. But I can now say I at least know what the damn game is. And it was amusing as hell to watch all these folks from their early 20s through mid 50s playing drinking games. Guess there's no such thing as a moratorium on the craziness of youth? 
  
  Being back in NWA always makes me nostalgic for college days. It's so beautiful up there, life is a bit slower, and people seem a bit less reserved. We have many friends up in that area, and sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to be living up there. Life won't be slow, no matter where we are. With two kiddos and (usually) two working parents, there's no such thing as a slow life, not to mention the kiddos are quite attached to their grandparents.
  
  But with sunsets over the mountains, watching the moonlight coming up in the trees around a firepit, good friends, and what at least looks like a more grounded lifestyle, it's hard not to feel the pull to be up there.