On the annual “Gurhkian Fe-a-ster Hulladey Weegen”, I managed to Marvin myself for nearly twenty four hours. And, No, I was not drunk enough to blame home made wine on the strange tale that unfolded.
There were the usual suspects there at the old sheep shearers quarters, minus a few, and the drop-ins and the early adapters. [dunno why I said that] The newbies- my sis and family. We all do nothing but catch up on family news of the year gone by, or what has gone on outside of the usual daily grind. Bicycle trips around the gorge like valley was on schedule every morning. If you were fit enough- ow, my poor knee still hurts from (years ago..) Or a trip on my brothers new BMW road-bike (noice one!).
Go for walks- well, I did not. This year. I forgot to bring my g-pick and goldpan, so in a huff, refused to walk the paddocks of weed and lava pebble/rock/boulder encrusted fields to the deeper part of the gorge where a unconformity of lava and old valley floor is in extreme evidence.
The kids disappear to the tree hut, constructed a vale away atop a one tree knoll. So far away, we cannot quite hear them.
There are those that are extroverts, and the quiet ones. So the entertainment is setup. The French lingo is abused for short squirts of time, hilarious accents tried out. “There ess a derg.” Clever words exchanged, even ideas are flaunted and flouted. Wine and grapes and Tassie soft cheeses are consumed with gusto by the afficiandos, the newbies are conned into just a little taste? I played only one game of scrabble the whole weekend. One. I wanted to play more but missed the opo’s to dive in, or could not muster the mustard to call one on.
Friday night was Sausage Rolls and other delectable eatables. Nothing else memorable to me at the moment… It was a quiet day. Laying next to the fire was nice, much later, but the dew was getting heavy, and fire dying… The last thing was moving the gear to my tent without waking anyone else while high and drunk as…
Next night was Pizza and Spoons Nite, as per usual. Most of us sit around the “galley” watching the three pizza makers- one Rolls out the prepared dough, the Spreader does the essentials to order, and the next , the Sweater, pops them into the Pizza Oven and slidesem out to the Spreader that is the Cutter now, and the children are conned into eating and serving the amazing food around to the starving proles.
Then it was all cleaned up and the galley rearranged to form a central table where a number of people are sitting, with that amount of spoons minus one, are laid. The cards are dealt, and the game started. Once you have 4 of a kind you pick a spoon up. The loser- No Spoon Ha Ha- leaves the table for the next round to start. Like musical chairs, and best done drunkenly? Very competitive, the laughing, the kids amazed at the Big Kids, you know. I try yo take a spoon really really quietly if I am the first to get a full hoose. Then watch the mad scramble once I am noticed Not Picking Up…
Meanwhile outside, my wild child had lent his bmx to his cousin, twice his age- and somewhat enebriated, so they could put on some demo moves… For those that were there, wqs agood show! I was pretty impressed at the new moves of #2 child.
I was thinking that I really should have brought My board game. The board game that comes like a ?case? [there I go again! a “BRIEF case”- 20 seconds!] You know, remember that game? It has pieces like, um, um, [AGAIN!], but the board has long triangular strips and you use dice.
No one knew what the hell I was going on about!
You take turns and race around the board and you can bet on the out come?
Nah, no-one had any idea. I was feeling really strange about this.
Maybe I had come up with a new game that I thought had a great strategy and tactics and a history I could make up, like the Pharoahs may have played it or Alexander the Great?
Nobody could help me out!
Buggery, I knew I had the game at home! On the Great Aunt Dot’s Bookcase, near the line of empty Scotch bottles! And a spare in the wardrobe too.
That night too, we had a great educationalist- Al. A poker school was started up. The game was not to win cash, but learn some intricacies we had not picked up over the years, because we were useless. Absolutely. I did not realise how much I did not know, like to open, you need a pair of jacks…. Al was rolling his eyes so much, we should have passed over some eye drops. In the end, I was the “banker”, I managed to maintain, if not grow, my pot of chips or corn seeds that if some ran out, I would flick them some ante uppers…
But still no one could remember the game I was on about.
The next evening, some one eased my mind.
Marvinned… For 24 hours…