Country pastimes
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
It seems we go in cycles, at our house, with our country pastimes. When we used to come to Ramona years and years ago as an escape from California, our pastime was visiting antique stores. We loved going to Abilene where there was a whole block of temptation. It wasn't the large pieces or expensive things that we acquired; but it's amazing how the tally adds up on tiny trinkets and old sadirons. Eventually we called a halt to antique shopping because there really was little room for our acquisitions which now appear in several houses and our little Dirt Gambler's Museum. "Let's make a rule," said my sister. "No more antique stores."
Gladly, I discovered a variation on the antique theme — attending auctions. This is another way to experience the thrill of the hunt as you now out-maneuver the antique dealers who also are hunting. Some of my first auction adventures included buying several chairs when I thought I was biding on only one! It also included having to hire a man with a pickup to cart all our treasures back to Ramona. These days, I go to auctions most often with Tooltime Tim and luckily he comes equipped with a truck. So far, Jess hasn't made an auction rule.
When we arrived in Ramona in the year 2000, and Kansas became home base, we played 10-point pitch with our Uncle Hank and Aunt Gertie as a pastime. We spent many an evening figuring out that game but never reached the level of proficiency that our aunt and uncle had honed through the years.
On a trip back to California we discovered Mexican Train, and bought ourselves a set of double-12 dominoes. When our friend Jill came from Oregon, we taught her the game. After a day of working ourselves into a frazzle with mowing, painting, and fixing up, we cleaned off the table and brought out the dominos. She enjoyed our obsession, too. When Jill went home, we sent our precious set of dominoes with her to remind her of her time in Ramona.
A couple of years into our country odyssey, a guest came to stay for a week at the bed and breakfast and taught us a card game called "Hand and Foot." We were hooked! Hand and Foot became the national pastime whether there was only two of us or 10. We taught Hand and Foot to the cousins. We taught Hand and Foot to our kids at reunion time. We loved playing Hand and Foot — and still do, on occasion; but another pastime sneaked into the house.
Tooltime Tim was waiting for us in the truck, one day. As I came back, I noticed he had a crumpled old National Enquirer magazine that he seemed intent on reading but he wasn't reading. He was noodling around with a pencil on some squares on the back page of the magazine. "What are you doing?" I inquired (no pun intended).
"Some number game," he said, "Here, you wanna do one?" he shoved another old magazine in my direction. "You have to fill in the numbers one through nine in all the blank spaces. One set of numbers on every line and only ONE. One set of numbers in every square — try it." While we waited for Jess to finish her shopping, I tried it. What fun! "What is this called?" I wanted to know. "Where do I get more of these?" Triple T didn't know. He just knew that his sister saved these magazines for him and brought them home.
A few days later, I was in Wichita on the way to the airport and I said, "We've got to stop at Barnes and Noble. I'm looking for something called "Sudoku." To my great surprise I discovered a whole table full of Sudoku books. Now, every morning, I sit with my tea and toast and my latest pastime — the Sudoku book, like an addicted New Yorker doing the Times crossword puzzle. In the evening, Tooltime Tim and I sit at the table with our noses buried in our Sudoku books figuring out the line-up of numbers. He does the hard ones. I take care of the easier sections. Jessica, who doesn't really like numbers, hasn't joined our folly — even though we've offered her a book of her own.
It's another day in the country. another evening, and we sit silently with our latest country pastime: Sudoku. "That's it!" my sister announced, "You guys are no fun any more."
