Games of chance

When Jonny and I were at MIND and closest of friends -- oh, about '78-'82, or somewhere in there -- I spent hours just about every day at 4453. Massive amounts of tea were consumed. And games were played.

There was a period of months when we played incessant backgammon, tucked into a front corner of the living room. Such a lovely, mindless game, which becomes meditative after a while, a softly tumbling backdrop to meandering conversations.

And there was a much longer period when Grace endeavoured to teach us bridge -- usually three-handed, but there was often a fourth to be dragged in from some part of the house. Jonny and I never had quite the focus to become good at it, or to remember even the main bidding conventions. But it was cozy and convivial (sometimes we even lit wood in that coal-burning fireplace, with absurdly smokey results). And in Grace I found perhaps the first adult with whom I could just hang out.

(I don't think I've ever fully reckoned with the role that Grace played in that part of my life: genuinely kind and well-wishing, in some ambiguous zone that was neither parental figure nor friend, a standing invitation to think of myself as more of an adult, less of a kid. In that part of my life, I did much more growing up at 4453 than at home.)