Good morning again. I do hope your week is going well so far. Last Saturday afternoon I went to check out the “Table Games” afternoon at the club. It was organised by a few women to encourage people to learn to play. I walked in and was accosted by a couple of friendly ladies who I’ve met before. I said that I needed them to point me to the easiest game, as I don’t know how to play Bridge or any other card game for that matter. The easiest game turned out to be ‘Mexican Train’ which is played with dominoes, and apparently as many people as you can fit around the table, can play at once.
It’s quite a fun game, but I got a bit mixed up with the terminology, and what was the difference between a private train, a public train, and a Mexican train. I also found it a bit disconcerting when people said “pass” after they’d actually made a move. In my book, “pass” means that you can’t go. They also didn’t understand me saying “paaas” instead of “pass.” Anyway, it wasn’t long before the game finished, and we all went off to sample the delicious snacks which had been set out. One could certainly put on a lot of weight living here full time. So many tempting little petits fours, cookies and meringues, just begging to be consumed. I’d had lunch, but just couldn’t help myself, so…….. I just helped myself. I couldn’t really take a photo, with all those hungry women milling around, but got this one from Google, just in case you’re feeling a bit peckish. Be my guest.
Our English/South African accent gets commented on all the time here. I’m sure that if I could work out a way to bottle it, it would sell like hot cakes. On Sunday, on the way back from the marina, we revisited some model homes, just to get a few ideas for our kitchen. There was no way we could have pretended that we were first time visitors. As soon as we walked through the agent’s office door, the woman on the reception desk recognised us, even though it’s been nine months since we were there. “Oh, you’re the South Africans. I remember you, and I just lurv yur aaccent.” We had to admit that we’d already bought a house, and it wasn’t one of theirs, but no problem, she gave us brochures and we were allowed to wander, undisturbed, around the eight beautifully decorated show houses at our leisure. People are so friendly, and not pushy at all. This one quite took my fancy.
Yesterday morning, on our way to the gym, we went past the club reception to book for the Valentine’s dinner dance evening. The receptionist greeted us by name, even though she’s only met us a couple of times, and as we were walking away, a male voice called to us, “You’re from South Africa, aren’t you? I heard you talking and recognised your accent. My daughter has just married a South African anthropologist. I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve spoken to him on Skype.” We then proceeded to have quite a long conversation with him, and although I was dying to ask him how come he hadn’t yet met his daughter’s husband since they are now living in California, I managed to curb my curiosity, but only just.
On Monday evening we finally remembered to go to the ballroom dancing class. We’ve missed out on learning the tango, and were hopeless at trying to muddle through, but the hustle and the swing were such fun, and we didn’t do too badly under the scrutiny of our new instructor Daryl, a very earnest and suave young man, with a goatee beard and a bit of a mohawk down the back of his head. This pic is taken from his promo. website.
He’s a definite improvement on the last two instructors, and everyone was dancing up a storm by the end of the lesson. I’m hoping that hubby and I will be able to dance quite passably well at the Valentine dance in a couple of weeks time.
Well, it’s going to be another lovely day here in Palm Beach County, so we may go to the pool again and have a midweek lunch out on the terrace. May as well make the most of it whilst we’re here.
Have a great day everyone. Chat again soon.