Croquet on Mother's Day

When we think back during this time of sheltering at home, one standout memory will be our nightly croquet games. 

It has become a ritual. Every evening after dinner, we gather in the backyard for 2-3 games, and to keep things interesting every few nights one of the boys will change the layout of the course. As a game it may sound pedantic, but croquet involves strategy, technique, and cunning moves. Additionally, you get to whack someone's ball out of the way.

And don't think of it as a genteel sport. It is cutthroat and my guys are out to win. 

Which is why I never win. Ever. 

But tonight, with it being Mother's Day and all, the guys went easy on me. They let me move my ball out of the pebbles, they chose to hit my ball THROUGH the wicket and not away from it, and they even let me have a do-over.

I still lost.

But who cares? The day couldn't have been more perfect: gorgeous weather, breakfast made by Joe, lunch from Villa Europa, a driveway visit with my parents, phone call (and nice conversation) with Nicholas, Cold Stone Creamery treats on the deck, and guitar music books, two novels, and a beautifully bound and illustrated version of John Steinbeck's East of Eden from the Folio Society of London. 

Mother's Day was perfect ... with or without croquet.