I haven't had a good game of Nerts in a long time . . .

Rainy days bring out my nostalgia. Card games used to be the Luth family pasttime; every get together inevitably turned into a card fest. The children loved to play Nerts, a fast-paced free for all variation on Solitaire that gets the blood racing like no other card game invented. The adults always went for the more sedate Hand and Foot, which was more conducive to chatting. Like Nerts, it also had the added benefit of being best played by many people - 8 people (4 teams) is the ideal number I think. In a family as large as ours it's important to have games that include lots of people. It's an interminably long game that requires two decks of card per person plus one more. It says something about our family that we never seemed to have difficulty finding 17 decks of cards - in fact, we always made a mental note of packing a couple decks to contribute to the pot, or to use in Nerts.

I was thinking about my nephews and 6months in the womb niece Eva too, and pondering that since my own child rearing days are probably a fair ways off still I can at least try to be the "cool" aunt that always comes out to play. I suppose the little ones were on my mind because of Andrea's shower over spring break - the mother of little Eva, whose name isn't official until the birth certificate. And then I was wondering how old they would have to be before I can teach them Nerts. I decided probably about 6. They have to know how to count first, but that's about the only requirement. I know my "little" cousins Charlie and Travis (now highschoolers) started playing with us older cousins when they were very young - probably 5 or 6. They always had to have a partner of course, at that age.

If I had more time I think it would be worth it to try to be a Big Sister or do some sort of reading program or something; I'm not sure what. I haven't thought about the Children's Museum that often of late, but I realize with every time I see my sisters' progeny just how much of an impact it made on me. My cousin Melanie, who's around my age, spent most of Andrea's baby shower playing with the kids in the yard. I envied her a bit, but it's good to be an adult sometimes too. Still, as the event was winding down I got in a good twenty minutes or so amusing Noah by helping him bounce on Kate's big exercise ball. I had been playing with him before the shower as well - we arrived a little early to help set up, but since that day was my only chance to see him over break I took the opportunity to play. Kate commented "You're so good with Noah. I'm just not good with children." Which isn't true - or at least, she's very good with Alex her son, which is all that is really important anyway. But it was a nice vote of confidence.

And somehow, believe it or not, I think being around little children calms me. They are innocent and really quite easy to please, when it comes down to it, and with all the intense complicated people around me (myself being such a person too) it's just such a relief to be around little people who are so simple.

I felt the same way when I visited with my Grandma Sander, who's almost 91 now and still of sound mind and only a little hard of hearing. I went in to visit her once with Mom, and we talked about quilting again, which is a growing connection I have with her. And then I spent one morning taking her to prayer service and on errands. She was so ecstatically grateful to have someone to take her on errands. She uses the OATS bus quite a bit to get around town when she needs to, but for some reason it really pleased her that I offered to take her around - she seemed to think it was infinitely easier, which I suppose it was.

There are a lot of complicated things in my life right now. So when I come upon that rare interaction with someone that is so simple, in which I can be so certain what the right course of action is, when I can please just by doing what is natural and easy and uncomplicated, it's precious indeed.

I have always felt most sure of myself when I am being a friend, and in many ways law school has made me quite a bad friend. (Law school just being the most recent excuse, actually.) And by "being a friend" I mean something more than the passive state of friendly relations with someone - I mean doing some act of friendship for another person. Sometimes it's for strangers, like stopping last night outside the Johnson at 10:30pm to give a jump to 2 slightly shady guys in their pick-up. Not the least risky move, granted, but I don't like jumping to conclusions, and the only strike against them was that their car was old and they were wearing clothes of people who've been outside doing a dirty job all day. All that says is they work hard for their living. Or acts of friendship for closer acquaintances. I was reflecting that in all the complicated, sometimes tenuous friendships I've created here with invariably intense people (when compared w/ the general population as opposed to each other) the only thing I feel unequivocally good about is being able to offer unconditional friendship to one particular someone who runs the risk of societal condemnation. I didn't do it on purpose to pat myself on the back - in fact I think I've been marveling a little at my own internal reactions and how they aren't what I expected.

The child, the old woman, the stranger, the outcast . . . (Well okay "outcast" is stretching the truth to breaking point) . . . they all have something in common. Those moments are few and far between when I can be a friend to such ones, but each such moment renews me.