games

Connections

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I really enjoy playing this game from the New York Times. It gets me to think beyond what I perceive.

One of the words today was “shiva”. To me in my environment in my meager knowledge of the world, other cultures, other traditions, “shiva” says mourning and is part of Jewish faith tradition. I am also a poor speller. That shiva is spelled with a h on the end. It can also be something that one does in a cold late Autumn drizzle while waiting for the bus if you are located in the part of New England where the r is often dropped at the end of the word. These two thoughts in combination led me to type shiva into Google’s AI driven (assisted?) interface.

The Hindu god of destruction appeared with a picture. All became clear. Before I returned to the NYT Games page to search for the rest of the connections to shiva, I spent some comfortable blissful time reading about Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. (Creator, Preserver, Destroyer) I play this game every morning but I do not always finish it because I become impatient with myself and the search for the connections. Patience is a virtue that has to be practiced often even in small ways to become comfortable. And I am not a keen observer of pop culture. Some connections are those kind.

All of this came while I am baking another new recipe and became distracted with thinking that Carl Sagan had written a book called Connections but his book is actually entitled, “Cosmos Connections”. I used to have it somewhere. His show from the 1980s is called simply Cosmos. Astronomy, planets and stars and night time sky phenomena also fascinate me. Oops I have fallen down another rabbit hole but it has led me to thinking about Cheryl. Or maybe the smell of baking has caused me to think about her.

Cheryl at the very end of her life became enamored with the moon and its phases. A couple times sitting with her in the evening in front of our home watching the moon and airplanes and the international space station go by, I saw the wonder in her eyes and voice as she marveled at the bigness of it all and the smallness of us. These little snippets of lucidity appeared at random. I think she was sensing something that I could not.

I miss that and I miss her. I am glad that our connection is so strong. I am glad that she leaves me little messages around when I hunt for things.

Carpe Diem… (I’m sure you can smell it. Banana Nut bread)

Scrabble

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We play more scrabble these days.

Back in the pre-Parkinson’s days, Cheryl was a computer database wizard (witch?) or at least the guru for several companies that her consulting company serviced as clients.  She spent a lot of time on her computer.  Even in retirement she kept it up with church and other groups providing email news and other communications.

We play more scrabble these days as I try to pry her out of her office and away from her computer which has become more frustrating and confusing to her.  Her other go-to game is bridge but that is hard to do with merely two players and her cognitive function failing.  So, we have been playing scrabble more often.  I offer it as an enticement to get her away from her computer.  Many times it works.  I hate scrabble.

She was (is) a good scrabble player.  A good scrabble player does not worry so much about the words as the score.  A good scrabble player is always hunting around for a word that goes into the corner for the TRIPLE WORD SCORE.  A good scrabble player is always plopping a word on the double word score preferably one with a Z or Q in it. 

I am a lousy scrabble player.  I am always looking for the longest word I can make.  The more pedantic the better it is.  If a player asks – what does that mean? – or challenges its meaning, I am vindicated.  Cheryl often beats me, maybe always beats me.  I love her.  I hate scrabble.

Her computer is becoming more confusing and the frustration has kept her from sleeping. Over time I have contacted some of the organisations that she was doing things for and suggested that they relieve some of the burden on her. It takes her more time and she worried about missing her own perceived deadline. It kept her from sleeping as she got anxious (a good scrabble word) about what she may have forgotten to do. The people she works with have relieved her commitment without grief. They understand her disease and how it screws with her head and her need to stay involved.

So I try to get her to play Scrabble more often. Last evening my lousy play was winning. I was ahead by 40 points at one point. I felt a bit guilty because she was struggling mentally and getting tired. But my lead kept shrinking. Was this a ploy? (one of my words) At the end she was ahead by two points but had many points left on the shelf. Aha! I had some too but fewer. I did the math.

She still beat me by 1 point. I hate scrabble but love her. She still has the killer gamesmanship in her.

Maybe we will try something that I can win at but on second thought that is not the point for me. I hate scrabble. I am not competitive.

Is there an online bridge group for parkies? Google search coming.