July 12, 2013
Earlier this week, during breaks from building a treehouse in the yard (when it wasn't raining) and a new wall in the basement (when it was raining), my dad sat down on the floor of the sunporch with the kids and taught them how to play marbles. I remember clearly when he taught me, explaining about cats-eyes and shooter and how to hold your thumb just right for a good shot. About how the playground at his school had pre-marked circles for for marble playing and how I wished mine did too.
The low pile carpet in the sunroom made an excellent marble pitch and we've had several intense games since, and our marble collection, which was just a small bag of clear marbles, has grown into a more impressive set with a pink (naturally) shooter for Evie and a green one for Briton and some pretty, colorful marbles in the mix. Lucky us, to have a Poppa who will sprawl on the floor for a match and go hunting on a rare sunny morning in all the little shops around here till he found someone who sold marbles just to make the game that much better.