I love games, from dominoes to cards to Pictionary. When we were kids, my cousins and I spent a zillion summer hours playing Kick-the-Can, Sardines, Spoons and — my ultimate favorite — Hearts. I remember a particular vacation with my in-laws completely dominated by an intensely competitive Spite-and-Malice bracket. And even now, my husband and I almost always keep up a running gin tournament while traveling.
I’m not saying I’m a professional or anything, but I’ve had practice and I like to think that I usually get the rules and the strategies and… the point. Well, y’all? Last night, I began the process of learning Mahjong, and I Am Humbled. The sweet, patient woman teaching us kept saying things like, “It’s ok if you don’t understand this yet” and … um… thank you!
Still, by the end of the night I could imagine how a person might get good and hooked. Not saying that I am or will be, but the beauty of the tiles, the movement around the table, the building of a perfectly prescribed line? Definitely worth another night of it, at least.
Haiku 9
April 9, 2025
Tiles clack like birds
wing-to-wing along a wall
singing krak, dot, bam
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