It's time

The best game. Ever.

It may have been the very last day. It was close, anyway, when my dear virtual friend, Akileos the Antagonist, said, "This will be the best poker I'll ever play." He might have said "we," or intended the plural, for it took little reflection to know that yes, it was. And now it is gone. (It may be back but I'm not holding my breath.)

Black Friday was bad, yet, to be honest, I wasn't playing that much online for cash. I enjoyed the 8 Game quite a bit, but my overall interest in poker was waning and had been for some time. Still, to sit for an hour or so and chat with friends... I'll miss PA.

What I didn't take into account was that the members are an intrepid lot, not quite willing to give up the friendships that they've made over the years, and a good number of them have moved over to PS.net's Home Games. And I've followed them.

The games are very few and far between, so, having loaded the software, I have been hitting the play PLO and 8 Game there. Good for my ego, let me tell you, but I also know that if I continue to sit at the lower tables, my game will deteriorate. Yet, a day doesn't go by that I don't double, triple or quadruple up over a session (not every game is a winner), and when I've developed a sufficient roll, I'll see if the bigger rooms have any better play.

I'd like to keep my game, and to do that, I must play. The game at Mike's once a month won't do it, but I'm not flush with cash, so I suppose I have little choice but to continue on PS. I'll suffer the five calling stations who won't fold to the stone cold.

But there's a problem.

A week into it, I'm already bored. I miss PA, not only for the familiar nicks each night, but also because there was a handful of players that knew the game and played it like something was on the line. We played to get better and be better than most, even if in our hearts we knew we'd never be anything more than recreational players.

Gained perspective doesn't always come directly at you. Only once in a great while it's that light switch. Sometimes it's around a corner and you bump into it as you're hurrying to get to the bank before it closes. Or you find it like a sock statically clinging to a fitted sheet. Other times it's a wound that heals so slowly you have it checked out by a doctor for fear of something more systematic.

I was planning on going to Las Vegas this December but had to cancel yesterday. Had to, maybe not, but probably, so I did. I was looking forward to meeting some folks and seeing some friends. But as far as the poker goes, it wasn't the worst thing.

*****

As I've mentioned, we've got a load of vegetables. We can't eat them all, and we're too lazy to can, so we look to neighbors to share what I pick. The Young Farmers get most of them, but our neighbors to the southwest and southeast get some, as do the two women ranchers down the road. It was at the kitchen table of the latter where the conversation turned to the first.

We give them one more year. And yes, the two and a half year old son really should be weaned before that.

*****

Next week a couple and their seven year old son are coming for a couple days. The boy is home schooled and still can't read the simplest words. But he's pretty handy with housework.