The last hurrah

A whirlwind series of farewell parties, dinners and visits ensued. We decided we needed to throw a good-bye bash so we found a couple pipers and sent out invites.

Our backyard had been the site of many a viciously contested croquet game. Oft times we had played a game on into the night with headlamps - once we played right through a tornado warning only stopping when the ground became too wet to play. And we wanted to end the tradition with a bang.


The reason for the killer course was the hill that you see here in the middle of the yard. One of the goal posts was on the lower level, the other was at the top of the hill. There were two wickets in the middle of the hill - you had to go through one going up, the other coming down.

Our last game was hard-fought - people burying opponents balls so they'd dissappeared completely, balls being sent through the fence and out down the driveway to be lost in traffic, players standing through the whole game in the same spot because they couldn't get their ball through the up-hill wicket.

Meanwhile we ate and drank and Ann Marie danced the highland fling over crossed croquet mallets. A friend going back for his third piece of cake said "This is such a great gathering aren't you going to miss this?"

Yes.