Back from my Spring Break in Georgia, where I was Frisbee Mom to forty-odd Ultimate Frisbee players.

It was a symbiotic -- or at the very least epiphytic -- relationship. I stayed with the A-team (which was half-heartedly masquerading as the B-team for the weekend, the real B-team in turn pretending to be the "C-team") for most of the High Tide tournament, snapping pictures, keeping stats, and refilling waterbottles when necessary.

In exchange, I got an inexpensive vacation in Georgia with a bunch of my fellow Lawrentians.





That's me on the sidelines, in my very own "Soft in the Middle" ghetto-jersey. People from other teams would see it and address me as "Soft."

Some team members addressed me as "Mom," a few tested "Dad" but it didn't stick. One home-schooled kid in my freshman studies section insists on calling me "Tutor."

I also cooked. I wasn't given any official U-Frisbee funds, but I could usually find about twenty people willing to pitch in a dollar or two for a share in a cheap homemade dinner. Then I'd leave the fields a bit early, go grocery shopping, catch a ride back in Colin's van, and try to have everything ready by the time our bus got to the beachhouse.

For the pasta dinner and the first pancake breakfast almost everyone on the team wanted in.

With occasional help from Grace and others, I cooked 6 pounds of pasta, 8 pounds of lasagna, 40 hot dogs, and several hundred pancakes over the course of the week. I sold PB&J sandwiches for a quarter when it looked like people had skipped breakfast.

More tomorrow. I'm exhausted. For a more sports-oriented recap, read Ben's blog.