Around three this morning the rain started and it’s still pouring. A strong wind is blowing even the thickest branches in the backyard, and I bet several will fall. Scrub pine is fragile. The house is dark but not quiet. I can hear the wind, the rain hitting the windows and a constant dripping from the roof. The animals are asleep. When I finish here, I have to venture out for a few groceries, but that’s all I have to do today. I’m thinking I’ll come home, get out of my wet clothes into cozies and read.

Last night was trivia, and my strangest contribution was knowing the name of the Keebler elf. I look forward to the Thursday trivia. It’s dinner out, a night with friends and the fun of wracking my brain for answers hidden in some drawer way in the back. We like to win, but last night we struggled on one round which had us way in the back of the pack, sixth going into the final question, but we rallied and ended up third.

We have been a game playing family for as long as I can remember. From the time I was little, we’d sit around the kitchen table and play. Early on my parents taught my brother and me whist so they could always have ready partners. My dad taught us card games like fan tan, cribbage and casino, and we played games like dominoes, Kismet, Uno or Skat. When we played Uno, my father never remembered to say Uno when he had one card left. One game he was so frustrated by having to pick up cards he took his book of matches, placed it in the middle of the table and said that was his Uno, and he didn’t ever have to say it. It got no approval as we all took some joy in yelling, “You didn’t say Uno!”

Everywhere we traveled, my dad and I played cribbage. On one trip to Ireland, we realized we had left the board at home so we went shopping and found one at a store in Dublin. It became our official traveling board. Later on, for whatever the reason, the wooden board warped and two corners were always in the air, but we didn’t care. It was a memory in itself, and we took it everywhere. My mother often took pictures of the two of us playing. I especially remember a picture taken in Germany. We were in Garmisch. We were on the bed, my dad and I, each to our side with the board in the middle. We posed as my mother took the picture. She then got comfy and read while we played. My father and I made fun of each other and baited each other as we played game after game. My mother ignored us. She was a smart woman.