I'm so sorry for my absence over the past couple of weeks. I've been quite ill and not up to much.
Secondly, Husby is taking me away for a few weeks to see if we can find my health again.
We're turning our house over to one of our daughters and her family and flying out tonight.
It'll be fun!
But I'm not sure about connections.
I'll try to stay in touch, health and internet providing.
I'll miss you!
And now, something to tide you over until I see if I'll be connected from our hotel in the Caribbean . . .
New Year’s Eve.
A time of food.
Fun.
Family.
And beating the pants off someone at this year’s game of choice.
The game for the last hours of 2013 and the wee, small hours of 2014?
Clue.
What could be better than starting the New Year out with a little bit of murder/mayhem and trying to decide if the victim had been bludgeoned, shot or strangled?
For some time, the players had been trying to figure out the whom, what and where of Mr. Boddy’s demise. Manipulating rooms (Ballroom, study, kitchen, library, conservatory, hall, dining room, lounge, billiard room), characters (Professor Plum, Mr. Green, Mrs. White, Miss Scarlett, Mrs. Peacock and Colonel Mustard) and weapons (Knife, gun, lead pipe, candlestick, rope, wrench); and toying with such statements as: Miss Scarlett in the ballroom with the lead pipe, and Mr. Green in the study with the rope.
The hour was growing late/early.
And our bunch of non-drinkers was growing slightly giddy with the unaccustomed lateness of the hour.
Someone posed the statement, “Look at all of the different ways to murder someone . . . the newer versions have poison. We need poison!”
A whole new dimension in the world of homicide.
To which my son, Erik, replied, “We have it!”
Everyone looked at him.
“Yeah,” he went on. “The Colonel in the kitchen, eating beans. Murder by Mustard gas!”
For fifteen minutes, all anyone could do was laugh.
Perfect way to bring in the New Year.
