Found this picture in an old Thom McAn shoebox of the whole gang of us on the beach in Cape May. Steadfastly ignoring those threatening storm clouds. That's me with my legs sticking out. We were crazy for canasta that summer...
For Marcia and Mary Ellen that was a very special summer...
We'll never forget the day Arnold lost his Ball railroad watch, and everyone on the beach helped out trying to find it...
There was always that awkward time sometime in the late afternoon. Thank God for Uncle George, who always spoke up first, saying what was on everyone's mind: "What say we head across the street to Sid's for a cold one?"
Sometimes after the morning round of badminton no one really felt like going to the beach. After a brisk shower for everyone Tommy would make up a fresh batch of his "special" iced tea, and Mrs Biddle would break out the fresh canasta decks...
Sally was so proud of herself the day she caught that sand shark.
The stillness in the air was palpable the day of the big canasta tournament at the Colonial...
Christmastime was always special at Mrs Biddle's. Tommy's special mulled cider. The pock-pock of the balls from the billiards room. And as suddenly as the canasta craze had taken over the previous summer all at once now it was fan-tan, every day and all day, on the big dining room table, and everyone took their meals in the kitchen or else in the parlour...
2 comments:
the birth of a new art form? le roman-carte postale?
or...le roman complètement fou?
Post a Comment