Whist-ful thinking

Grandma Burke taught us how to play Whist in the cottage along the shore of Platte Lake. She also taught us Canasta and how to be worried if our bowel movements didn't come with near-perfect regularity.

OK, the bowel movement part has nothing to do with today's blog; but I can't think of Platte Lake and Grandma without recalling the morning she looked me right in the eyes and demanded to know whether I had had "a movement." I tried to read her face to determine which was the correct reply and settled on "yes."

Later, when I learned more about bodily functions -- and about my father's childhood -- I realized that my fortuitous choice of responses may have saved me from a very unpleasant, but memorable day at the lake.

Anyway, back to fun and games...

I belive I may have played whist only at that Michigan cottage and once about five years later in a Kansas farmhouse where Grandma had moved with her second husband.

Until tonight, in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, that is.

Tonight I played cards with eleven women who are probably all older than Grandma was when she taught my sisters and me to play Whist back in the '50s.

None of these delightful ladies asked about my bodily functions; but just about every other topic was on the table alongside our playing cards. We had a ball.

I rediscovered Whist, losing three out of four series of five games each. I partnered with four different ladies and played against nearly all of the rest. We traded wisecracks and mock insults for about two hours. Then, more than half of us hung around for coffee and a lot more joking, interspersed with a little serious talk about life in a retirement community.

At one point, another man walked into the room and commented about my status as the only male among so many females.

"This is a situation I try to create every where I go," I quipped.

"Well, you better watch out," the other fellow retorted, "or one of these ladies might make you an offer you can't refuse."

"What do you mean, 'might?;" I countered. "I've already received three offers from people in this room. Of course, as a gentleman, I can't reveal their identities."

Well, the women all took this in stride and began interrogating each other and accusing each other of being among the brazen hussies who might have propositioned old Wandering Dave.

It was the most fun I've had on this trip. We laughed and joked until one of the ladies finally announced that it was past her bedtime.

"Well, if one of us leaves, we'd all better leave together or tongues will be wagging tomorrow morning," declared another.

The room cleared in a matter of seconds. And I was alone.

I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me.
She showed me her room, isn't it good, Norwegian wood?

She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere,
So I looked around and i noticed there wasn't a chair.

I sat on a rug, biding my time, drinking her wine.
We talked until two and then she said, "it's time for bed".

She told me she worked in the morning and started to laugh.
I told her I didn't and crawled off to sleep in the bath.

And when I awoke I was alone, this bird had flown.
So I lit a fire, isn't it good, Norwegian wood.
     -- Beatles, 1965