Change of Pace

Guess what I did yesterday. I could hardly believe it myself. I played canasta.It's been nearly forty years since I played before and I didn't make a fool of myself. In fact, I played well enough that the others thought I must have been some sort of canasta whiz in my youth.

Canasta was the big game for my generation when our kids were new borns and toddlers. It wasn't really a game as much as it was an escape from taking care of babies all day long. It was an opportunity to get out of the house and talk grown up talk. When the kids got more civilized and more likable, running away was no longer necessary so we gave it up. My mother in-law said I would be sorry. "You have to play some sort of card game when you get older", she advised. I figured I'd worry about that when I got older. Yesterday, I guess I got?

Nah.I don't think so? While the game was fun at my friend's milestone birthday party, it's not something I wish to write a blog about and make a habit. By the third game, with only a wild card and a seven left in my hand, our threes protected by two cancastas and a healthy run of cards in front of me, my heart was pounding, my muscles were tensing up and I was eager to go out with my next draw catching our opponents with nothing. Zip. I wanted to win. My competitive nature had been aroused. I could easily become obsessed.

But playing cards does nothing for the left side of my brain. No paintings get painted. No drawings get drawn. So the delightful afternoon I spent reliving another time in life would have to be just that: an interesting change of pace that reassured me I could still count cards. --Sure was fun though...