Fifteen-Two
Summer, 2015: Last summer my brother Barry and his wife visited our home in Victoria during which my husband and he played several games of crib each day. It was a highly competitive affair where one Fifteen-Two might be the difference between winner or a loser.
The bantering about who was the better crib player continued over several days with each claiming the overall title. After the couple returned to Edmonton, Harold and I could not find the crib board and cards fro the life of us. Then, one day, we spotted it sitting in fireplace which had not been used all summer long.
For Christmas 2015 we decided to complete the task Barry had started and decided to gift the crib and cards to him. After starting the fire we touched up the board and cards just a smidgeon and mailed to his Edmonton home along with the following cover poem.
FIFTEEN-TWO
Christmas 2015
The summer visit so long awaited
Our fences built and beautifully gated
My brother and wife now on their way
Would make it perfect – what more can I say
Together days spent in glorious repose
Or admiring the city and an occasional rose
The evenings they passed with dinner and walks
Or around the table for those late night talks
I wonder therefore, when it all went wrong
A definite discord had entered this song
At games of chance the results became heated
When one or the other was soundly defeated
Imagine our angst when the visit ended
And our evening game could not be tended
Well despair is one thing but revenge so dire
To relinquish our crib board to the roar of the fire!
So brother dear we make this gift
And hope it goes far to mend the rift
A remembrance for you of those idyllic days
And a promise for all to mend our ways
For our part, you see, to aid in the cause
From practice at cards, we’ll take a pause
To give you time to increase your skill
And the next round of cards, your wishes fulfill!
Love Harold and Lynn
From Our Home to Yours
A Very Merry Christmas
and Happy New Year!
PS Keep practicing brother and Nancy, please make sure he works at the game every day as Harold’s head is just a little to big. Love, Lynn
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