Oh my! How our Covey has grown!
Christmas Day 2018, and quite a few members of this rarefied group were gathered together to celebrate the season, reminisce about the past and generally remind each other of the love and admiration we share.
We celebrated the season by eating as much delicious food as
our stomachs could accommodate, then after a suitable interval, we consumed
more. All thanks to the hospitality of
LB’s eldest daughter and husband.
After
Secret Santa had sprinkled gifts to everyone there was a very special surprise
gift given to the hostess. It may have
been special because it was 30 years old. Or perhaps it was because it was an
entirely cheap tacky little candle holder that had been given as a joke so many
years ago.
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| First given: |
1988 - Phyllis to June
| 1989 - June to Phyllis | 1990 - Phyllis to Laura | 1994 - Laura to Sarah | 1996 - Sarah to Stan | 2005 - Stan to Sue | 2018 - Sue to Maia |
Or, it might have been the
little orange notebook that accompanies the gift and must include some words
from giver to receiver, or, maybe because we had all forgotten about it, until it
was found in a drawer of LB’s office. Whatever the reason, seeing it again
brought a tear to a few attendees. Also, it seems to have been much loved throughout the years because apart from a small broken corner it's still in one piece.
Of course, the other result of something like that is that
it kick-starts a ton of memories. And
this day was no exception. We
resurrected all the old chestnuts that I’ve detailed in previous blogs.
We must have had a lot of parties when we
were younger, so many memories centred around them. Laura recalled her father and I compiling a
list of invitees where we would decide if someone was worthy of being
invited. It seems there was a standard
which had to be reached. Someone who sat
in a corner and didn’t mix was unlikely to make the list for a second invite. A person had to be ready to look silly, after
all, so many of our parties included a “dress up” feature, as evidenced by the
“Tramp Party” to welcome LLB and his new wife to Canada.
A new memory reared itself from oblivion: that of kite
flying. I’m sure everyone has memories
of flying a kite sometime in their childhood, but I wonder how many have flown
“Indian Fighting Kites”? In much later
years when I read the fabulous novel: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, I was able to immediately imagine how these
kites looked and acted all because of the 1967 summer of the kites. David had often told stories of kite flying
during his youth in India. So together, David
and LB made fighting kites.
This making was no mean feat. LB knew about English kites both large and
small but making this little fighting kite took lots of discussions and lots of
trial and error. But finally, the master
piece was born. I remember when David
took that thing to the sky, dipping and diving as no other kite I’d seen, it
drew many, many neighbourhood spectators.
If you’re at all interested in making one of your own you
will find the instructions with the story I wrote in a Childrens’ Annual in
1983: Https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=931502699&searchurl
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| Me showing off for the local newspaper. |
Or, faster than making your own – just talk to LB – he will whip you up
one immediately!
