The rules that go with this photo diary are that I will get out of the house at least once every day and make at least one image. Well, I did, and the image was crap so I’m not using it. The rules don’t say I have to use the image. Besides, the story that went with the image ran along the lines of it was too windy to walk outdoors so we went to Co-op for vittles instead and JESUS CHRIST HAVE YOU SEEN THE PRICE OF GROCERIES LATELY?
I got some other, better pictures later that evening while my wife and I were having a few games of Cribbage and it made me think of a more interesting story. I’m going with that instead.
I played Cribbage with my grandmother, Ida McCormick, for as long as I can remember. I know I was counting my cards in Cribbage before I learned to count normally. This meant that while the other kids in school were counting 1, 2, 3, 4… I was counting as 15-2, 15-4, run of three is 7, and pair makes 9. This was at age five. Of course this was how I tried to count in school.
One of my teachers was scandalized because she was sort of religious and felt my grandmother was teaching me to gamble. It resulted in my grandmother walking to school with me, meeting the grade one teacher with me sitting nearby, confused, and feeling like I had done something wrong, and Gran telling the teacher to stop being a twit and to pull her head out of her arse. I also remember Gran being mad enough at the teacher that her Scottish accent came back some, and that didn’t happen often. I always knew I was in deep shit when she was upset with me and that Scottish burr appeared out of nowhere.
Casa McCormick, Strathmore, AB, 2024-10-27
McCormick, Strathmore, AB, 2024-10-27
I never stopped playing Cribbage with my grandmother and it was one of the defining features of our relationship (along with our shared interest in photography). We always played on a wonderful old wooden board she had with a green felt bottom and a piece of wood that slid out so the cards and pegs could be stored inside. It was a three track, continuous, traditional spiral racetrack design on blonde wood, with plain black printing. I believe it was made by Acme of Canada. This would have been an expensive Cribbage board back in the day and I suspect it was a significant and expensive purchase for my grandmother, which is why she treasured it like she did. She loved that Cribbage board and so did the rest of the family.
I believe it went to my Aunt Myrtle after Gran passed, which is fine, because that is something her oldest daughter should have. No complaints from me.
I have tried long and hard to find a Cribbage board just like Gran’s for sentimental reasons, but I have not been able to. Nothing with a slide-out bottom that stores cards and pegs inside. I did find an ornate board from House of Cribbage with laser etching I like and a drawer that pulls out to store cards and pegs. It’s different from Gran’s, but it also reminds me of hers. That’s a win and it’s what I love to play on now. It’s also a quality Cribbage board that I hope will be treasured by my own daughter someday. If she ever learns how to play, damn it.
My wife and I played three games last night and I won two out of three, which ain’t bad at all. I am a cutthroat Cribbage player like Gran was and I am not easy to beat, even when out of practice. My wife never used to win and now she is winning enough that I have to be really careful what I lay down around her. She’s pegging viciously, which I adore. Cribbage is more fun when the other player is punching back twice as hard.
Life is like a game of Cribbage; you can still peg like a bastard even when you’re dealt a shit hand. Remembering this has gotten me through some tough times.
Images from a Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra phone. Cribbage board from House of Cribbage. Cards by Bicycle, the only cards a person should ever play with.
