beginning of the end

"It's the beginning of the end." 

That's what my good friend M says to me when I tell her I'm going to learn Canasta . She probably thinks I'm leaning toward a permanent move to Florida as well — which, quite honestly, looks pretty idyllic from those I know who live there.

A few weeks ago Zelia asks me if I'd be interested in a weekly game of Canasta. I have no idea what is involved in the game, but I love cards and I love her, so meeting weekly sounds great.

There are six of us who are interested — even better.

Pam and I have no idea how to play. Ellen and Meredith know the game. Zelia grew up playing in Brazil. And Shari says she's familiar with the game but doesn't know it well. 

Our first lesson is tonight. Zelia is the teacher; Pam and I the students. Shari was supposed to be a student but she underestimated her knowledge. As it turns out, Shari and Zelia make a great teaching team.

The basic game seems pretty simple. But there's a lot to remember, and a lot to observe. It also feels like learning the various strategies could take a zillion hours to perfect. I love games like this.

So over tea and sweet and salty Kettle popcorn, we spend a couple of hours learning the basics.

Lesson two is sometime next week. 

If this is the beginning of the end, the end doesn't look so bad.