Every Sunday afternoon...okay it wasn't every single one, but most of them, Dad played board or card games with my sisters and me. His philosophy-never give the win to his daughters.
He was an accountant, and had a sharp mathematical-logical mind, which put him in the winning circle...let me count...yep, every single time.
One game we played was hearts. With three girls bent on beating Dad, he still found a way to shoot the moon. Shooting the moon meant he managed to get ALL the points. Points were ALWAYS bad, EXCEPT when a player received ALL the points--shooting the moon. The result? All other players received all the points and the one who shot the moon received Zero. Zip. Nada. Ack! How did he do that?
The unknown benefit to us? We became tenacious. Victims ready to challenge him again the next Sunday afternoon. We banded together and plotted a strategy. He accepted the challenge and won the game--YET AGAIN. We wrestled him on the floor afterwards. Yep, you guessed it. He won that game, too, by tickling our feet.
Have you noticed all the great life qualities he taught us? Strategy. Banding together. Tenacity. Never Give Up. Laughter. Losing a game was okay because you could try again. Just as equally, winning isn't a given, etc.
Did he consciously do that? Probably not. It's part of the parenting thing that God helps us do.
Digging back in the cobwebs in my mind part 2:
This weekend our guest will be a historical author. But not completely. This author adds in plenty of the unexpected, and with such a convincing flair, to his writing.
I received a copy of his book, quite by surprise. Typically, I set a new book on my bookstand and get to it as soon as I can. You too? Well, this book demanded my immediate attention. Dishes could wait. Just read one chapter, it called.
I met the author, Rick Barry, at my first writer's conference on Wheaton College's campus in Chicago more than ten years ago. Sessions started early in the morning and often went past midnight, (I love the in-depth, workaholic conferences). The truth is, there were several clusters who just couldn't stop working on stories, mine was one.
Our critique group met in the assigned room after the evening session for over an hour. The custodian, after turning off several building lights and noticing we didn't leave, kicked us out. Rather than calling it a night, the fifteen or so of us went to a community lounge in one of the dorm buildings and kept working.
Rick read a short story he wanted to submit to a publisher. His plot hooked me from the first sentence and the ending caught me completely off guard. Years later, I still remember that story and am just as impressed with his writing. Yep, this is our guest this weekend!
Dig through the cobwebs in your memory
and tell us a crazy, fun, interesting happening.