Cribbage

I like cribbage boards because they remind me of playing the game with my grandfather when I was a child. Grandad was a very laid back kind of guy. The only time I remember him giving any advice was when he said, “Now Sue, I want you to promise me that you won’t keep company with a guy who carries a hip flask.” I thought it was funny at the time, but then again I must have taken him seriously because I married a teetotaler.
Thinking about Grandad tonight, I realize he reminds me of David: same dark eyes, easy-going nature, and an interest in glass and in playing games.
Aside from the personal association though, I find the shape of a cribbage board very appealing because it’s an arch. Years ago I was really into doing paintings of arches, and Emma, who was probably three at the time, painted right along with me.
And while I’m on the subject of arches, I’ve just remembered that I have quite a few of them in my basement. During my arch phase, one of my neighbors (a window framer by trade) would often bring me large, curved pieces of wood that weren’t good enough for him to use. But aside from painting one black, I never did anything with them because their size intimidated me. Now that I’ve had them for over twenty years without tossing them out, I’m wondering if those arches know something I don’t.