At the meeting of our Nomination Whist group this afternoon I related the story of the person who came to the rescue at the Strawberry Tea Party (see yesterday's blog) by producing two blue plastic clothes pegs to secure
The Redoubtable Muriel's sheet music onto her music stand.
Most of our number were as bemused as I was that anyone would carry clothes pegs in their handbag, just in case of Windy Emergencies - but Maree thought
it was eminently sensible. After all, she opined, one never knew when one might need to hold one's nose. Now who'd have thought it?
This is one of the (many) things I love about our Nomination Whist Group;
there is always someone who has an answer for everything. I showed Maree our sunflowers, grown from a packet of seeds she gave us some months ago. She was well impressed though she pointed out that Mr B's look ever so slightly taller than mine. Still, we are
in this for the Long Game and Maree's Sunflowers (as I like to call them, to Maree's great pleasure) are doing just splendidly.
Today we were in fine form indeed. We played our customary two games - one before
the refreshment break, one after - and all eleven of us scored over 100 on each game. That's a total of 22 centuries in one day, something we have never achieved before. We must be getting better, we congratulated ourselves, though we said it quietly because,
who knows, next session we may all come a cropper.
During the break, we asked our fellows to indulge us by listening to our eldest grandkids' musical performance at our Golden Wedding service. Nobody minded;
a few had tears in their eyes. That's not counting Mr B and me, who have watched it over and over again and cry every time. Like I do at the end of International Velvet ("You never got to keep your medal..." Cue tears.)
Getting ready for Nomination Whist takes me most of the morning, though I do sit down for a bit between my exertions, to check out the progress would-be developers have made on Homes Under the Hammer, to read the newspaper, or to engage in Mindfulness.
Also known as Shutting My Eyes For A Moment. This is called Pacing Yourself and I have become better at it since I retired and became a Lady of Leisure.
Depending on the number of people we are expecting,
I need to haul one or two card tables out of the garage and between four and six spare dining room chairs. What did you say? Cars? Does anyone have room in their garages for cars? I need to clear the dining table of Mr B's "stuff" and spread the baize cloth
thereon. Yes, indeed, dear Reader, we have Grand Pretensions. On each table, a pack of cards, two score sheets and a useful marker which tells all players whether Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds or Spades are trumps. These markers were a present from Avril and very
useful they are too - though even so someone will always ask: "What's trumps?" on every hand.
Out in the kitchen, I need to set out trays of mugs and glasses plus plates of biscuits, all ready for "half-time".
The kettle is filled right up to the top though I know I'll still need a top-up. Remembering who likes tea, who likes coffee, who prefers flavoured water, who takes sugar - it's quite a mind game but I'm getting pretty good at it now (though I say so myself,
But you know it's worth the effort. Mr B loves welcoming people into our home and still plays a mean game of cards, despite his fuzzy head. Every one of our group has become a real friend, part
of our extended family. We share in each other's joys and sorrows, love to hear about holidays, cinema trips, gardening successes, grandchildren's visits.
Nomination Whist. It's more than just a game of cards...