Then the blizzard happened. I was supposed to fly on Wednesday. HA! By 5:30 a.m. my 10:00 a.m. flight from Albany had already been cancelled. Forty minutes waiting on hold with the airline produced the information that there was no way -- and I mean no way -- to reschedule me on another flight before Saturday. And my return ticket was for Sunday. So I didn't go to Florida. Bridge partner James, scheduled to leave the next day, figured he wouldn't get out either, and why go anyway if I wasn't going to be there? And it snowed and snowed and snowed.
So on Wednesday afternoon, Valentine's Day, with the snow coming down at a rate of about 3 inches per hour, the Scrabble tournament convened at my house in front of the fire. There were interludes of shoveling, pushing cars, etc. More Scrabble. More snow.
Then on Thursday, James and I drove to Connecticut to play in a bridge tournament there. We figured we had planned on spending three days playing bridge, so why not just do it at another tournament? It wasn't quite like going to Florida, but when you're playing bridge in the stuffy ballroom of a convention center, it doesn't much matter what's happening outside.
With a break on Friday morning for me to be the guest speaker at an on-line conference, a webinar on Bringing History to Life, we played five matches, approximately 135 hands. Surprisingly there were a number of junior players and college aged players. Wow. A sign that the game is not dying out completely. For the first time James and I were not, at 45 years old, the youngest players in the room.
Saturday morning we watched me on C-SPAN 2, a horrifying experience. If you've never watched yourself on t.v. let me just say that if you have the opportunity to see yourself on t.v. don't take it.
Now I am back in front of the fire, regarding the snow piled up outside. Come on, spring. Come on.
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