The back porch; the back lawn; 1990s NBA

We’ve cleaned up the spacious, shaded, screened-in back porch, and I’ve been trying to spend time on it each day, out of doors but not really out of doors. Samuel is very interested in what he sees outside. Jasper and Ziva also like to explore out on the porch; I must supervise them, however, because Karin keeps a dahlia there, which is poisonous to cats.

On Saturday, we all gathered on the porch with Mary & Martin and Stephen & Edoarda. Each family stayed some ten feet from the others.

Then, on Sunday, I had to mow in the rain.

(It really is a soggy lawn. I understand why on Midsomer Murders the English are always wearing Wellingtons. Everyone says our tree looks like a willow, and then remarks that willows don’t usually grow away from water. I think there’s plenty of water.)

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The outstanding documentary series of the quarantining period isn’t Tiger King; it’s The Last Dance, about the 1990s Chicago Bulls. I haven’t seen a single episode of The Last Dance – we don’t have cable – and yet I know it’s good because every day my Facebook feed is crowded with articles riffing on this or that point it raises. I’ve been inspired to rewatch quite a few old basketball games on YouTube. (Samuel likes them, too.) These are the three conclusions I’ve drawn:

(1) The Chicago Bulls were awesome (pick any year).

(2) The 1994–1995 Houston Rockets were awesome, though they didn’t win many games in the regular season. Hakeem Olajuwon was just tremendous: powerful and very smooth (and a crafty ball stealer).

(3) The 1997–1998 Indiana Pacers were as good as I remembered them (i.e., very good). Would they have beaten the Jazz in the final playoff round? I don’t know.

These impressions are borne out by two fine articles by Sam Quinn: one about the Rockets, and one about the Pacers.