"Let's go out in the backyard and play!" ~ Van, circa 1954

We played hide-and-seek, flashlight tag, and chase-the-dog.  We made mud-pies in the flower beds and sand castles in the sand-box.  We ran in the sprinkler, jumped out of the swing, and had "meetings" in the fort.  We even slept out in the backyard on a quilt one summer night.

My little brother was probably about 4 when he asked me to play with him for the last time.  He soon had his own friends and didn't want to play with a big sister.  But I never stopped wanting "to play" in my own backyard.

Throughout my life, I've lived in a lot of places--Texas, Alabama, California, Oregon, Colorado, Nebraska, some of them more than once.  And most places I've lived have had some kind of backyard, if you leave out the dorms at Texas Tech and a couple of apartments along the way.  My biggest backyard was in Oregon--2.5 acres.  My house here in Sun City, in northern California, has the smallest, but I love it so...

And now that winter appears to be finally over (except for this little cold front coming in tomorrow to dump a couple more inches of snow in the Sierra), I've been playing in the backyard this week--

                                 ...with my drumcarder...

                                 ...making batts for spinning...

But spinning is another story.   For now, Rosie and I will just sit and watch the birds...out in my backyard...