Last but certainly not least: croquet. A game to try the patience of saints. You start out well, but by the second and third wicket, you’re alone, watching the others play so blithely on the far side of the lawn.
I’m a sore loser and dislike doing anything I’m not immediately good at, but M. was determined to see me get better, so the next day he took me through a practice run. And then I hit myself in the ankle with the mallet. He brought ice and more gin and tonic. I think I’m starting to like the game.
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Notes from others: