What to say of the last week?

—-

Peter Rabbit reigns supreme just now. Kind relatives bought Mini the whole set of Beatrix Potter books for Christmas, and we are working our way through them at bedtime.

It’s interesting to try books that I knew nothing of before. Ginger and Pickles run a rather strange shop, and go out of business fairly quickly.

We also have The Pie and the Patty Pan. Were I writing crime fiction, or something detective-y, this might be known as The Case of the Double Oven.

Suffice it to say, I am with the dog character on this: I would prefer not to eat mice pie, either.

Mrs Tittlemouse comes across as very OCD these days, but there are the wonderful characters of Babbity Bumble (the bee whose family has taken up lodging without asking), and the toad who sneezes when offered a plate of thistledown.

Reading more Beatrix Potter means we can also get out the audio CDs. Patricia Routledge and Michael Hordern are the readers, and you couldn’t want for more comforting voices.

Mini is very keen on The Tale of the Two Bad Mice. Maybe it’s the temptation to bash up the fake dinner, discovering that it was only plaster. Somewhat more overt violence for a children’s book.

For my part, I rather like the way that reading more in the series lets you meet certain characters again: the dolls of Bad Mice fame crop up again, visiting the shop which Ginger and Pickles own.

I have also introduced Mini to the Peter Rabbit series on CBeebies. This is generally going down well so far. Mini is less keen on the hectic guitar music for the series, and I have to agree – it’s a bit heavy, for such lovely pictures.

Whether or not we make it through the whole series remains to be seen. If so, I might finally finish Little Pig Robinson (started many years ago) for myself.

===

We have an early birthday celebration at my parents, which also allows for further Eating Up of Christmas food items. Two birds and all that.

To be honest, any offer of being fed that includes a) smoked salmon and b) me not cooking is generally to be seized. Swiftly.

Probably the main present of the day was the amazing views of snowy fields, as we drove out to the Borders. In one area, water had run off fields that slope above the road, forming brilliant icicles on the hedges.

Having driven through all this, the kids were fairly underwhelmed to see almost no snow on the ground outside my parents’ house.

Thankfully, Granny Ro was prepared to put boots on and go hunting for more snow with Mini. At least enough was found for a small snowball fight.

In fact, there was even some on the ground back at home, the following morning. The sledge, which gets more outings on grass on the back garden than anything else, did just fine on snow too, at a nearby park.

(It also worked well for dragging some snow back home after. I’m not sure if there was scientific enquiry, or just a thought to practise throwing snowballs at the fence. Probably more of the latter.)

—

The previously-mentioned joint project of building a hotel in Minecraft has gone a bit quiet. I’m not quite sure whether they’ve finished, or agreed to go back to individual game time.

In the meantime, Junior has decided to do a bit more work in Scratch, a visual programming tool which allows you to build little animations, and I’m sure much more.

Stop-motion is hanging in there as something to do when there’s ten whole minutes spare before heading off for school. And at other times too, if Daddy’s available for a bit more team effort.

I continue my own roles in this area: a) let them get on with it b) smile appreciatively when required c) leave Dan to figure out the rest when they get stuck.

—

Dan meanwhile has the opportunity to age by at least a decade. I’m trying out those patches for elbows, for when jumpers have holes in them.

So far, rather suspicious – and the stuff the patches are made out of smells a bit too. We’ll see how we get on. We can always remove the patches and go back to holes in elbows – it’s worked for us so far.

However, I am making some tentative attempts at darning – or at least, fixing a hole in one of Mini’s school jumpers with some embroidery thread.

It’s not quite the same colour. It’s not wool either. But knowing Mini’s abilities to expand holes in clothes, it’s a case of getting in quick now.

—

Buoyed by the success of last week’s apple cake, I did a bit more Solitary Baking this week. There were some gluten-free muffins, which I’d tried doing before and like.

I also had a go at making some granola, having found a new recipe with fewer nuts, but with the additions of ginger and cinnamon. So far, so rapidly disappearing.
I think that’s a good sign.

I think the kids are fairly happy at the prospect of me continuing this on a weekly basis, if they get cake for after school snacks. So am I really, if I get to eat some too. And there’s fruit or veg in too, so that has to count for something.

In the same session, I had a go at a kind of chicken pot pie. Chicken good, pastry bit not so much.

There was a reason why the recipe showed separate pie tins, and I’ve discovered it. There is actually such a thing as too much pastry after all.

—

Junior and I are doing a bit of language learning, to tie in with a series of books we’re reading. I’ve found that the textbook I used for it in the past is now online.

It seems that even this kind of practice is cool if you can drag and drop words into the right columns, and do other more interactive stuff.

And if you get them all right, on one exercise, you get a flock of butterflies covering your screen. Which, apparently, is an incentive as far as Junior’s concerned.

The real test is whether Junior can learn enough to teach a school friend, so they can both speak to each other without others knowing what they’re saying.

Nothing like spy requirements to put you under pressure to come up with the goods.

—

Meanwhile, day by cold (and by turns rainy) day, the light creeps back.

I know, from previous years, that by the end of the month, it’ll be light at five in the evening. It was almost properly light at eight this morning.

I walk round the park before pick up, and admire the allotments. The leeks stand proud like bundled ribbons. The other remaining veg appears to wear hairnets.

But despite the cold, the wet, the relative lack of promise on the ground, the birds are already singing more.

And on days when my hands are freezing, even despite warmer gloves, that’s a good thing.

The post Weekly snapshot: 21 January appeared first on Frydmania.

Games seem bigger on the radar again. Junior is involved, but so is Mini. They have their different likes and dislikes.

Mini and I play different games quite a lot. It seems to work for us both.

I like the fact that games have start and end points; we know what the activity will be, how it will run. (These things don’t necessarily feature as simply in everyday family life.)

Mini likes the numbers; the together time. There is a fair amount of tolerance for losing; an interest in playing again, particularly when winning.

Bit by bit, we find some new games to play. We invent some variations on ones we already have.

Games are not just for the two of us. They seem to be something to invite other family members in on.

Adults and kids have different tolerances: for conversation, for gaps between meals, for the appropriate number of toys to dump in a room at a given time.

But they can came together over a game. A game can even (whisper it) allow someone else to do something, like nip off and hang up the washing. Or step into an empty room and breathe. Those kind of things.

So I’ll return to some games again. As a Senior Player, I get to direct as well as to take part.
I even get to stock the games box, and shake things up at times.

Ready for some more games? Eyes down.

The post Game on: revisiting games appeared first on Frydmania.

All those things you love. All those things that you know something about. All those things that you think might even be helpful to them when they grow up.

Well. Some of that happens. Occasionally they even listen to you about something you’re keen to tell them about.

Just like any of us, kids develop specialist subjects, and they expect you to be expert in them.

Whether you are or not.

—

Mini is all about cars. Car identification: tick. Identifying old cars never previously seen: tick. Ability to continue to identify cars, at speed, even when tired or grumpy: tick.

I have been apprenticed to the school of digger appreciation in the past, so I have learned a little in this respect. Part of me rails against it; part of me is genuinely fascinated by the interest in something that would never have taken my fancy at that age.

So we talk about cars. Turns out I do know something about them now. Driving helps. As does looking at badges of Suzuki vs Seat close up, so we can tell the difference between them. (You’ll be off to check for yourself now.)

We start to introduce some car part terminology: hub caps, exhaust pipes, soft tops. Mini is entranced. I am quite proud of myself. This level of car knowledge I can deal with.

Mini will tell you as soon as a car has different hub caps to its overall make. It never occurred to me to look at hub caps, unless they happened to be particularly shiny and caught my eye, but now we look at hub caps.

We play variants on hand sandwich. Somethings we use hands, sometimes we just talk it through when walking along. There is still bread on the bottom, but then we get windscreens, horns, seatbelts.

Just the kind of things you want in a sandwich.

Mini wants to know ‘how cars go to the toilet’. So we talk about exhaust pipes getting rid of what cars don’t need. And, for good measure (and because we’ve noticed them too), we talk about radiator grilles, and what the car does if it gets too hot.

There is even a particular red Ford GT that we look out for, on our way to the sports centre.

—-

When kids love diggers, you learn to love them too. You spot them when the kids aren’t even there. You might even turn and remark to the person next to you when you’ve seen a particularly cool bit of equipment.

Until you realise that they are just another adult at the bus stop next to you. Then you go quiet.

Actually, I’ve managed not to do that part, just about. And by now, I have forgotten more of my digger knowledge.

Plus Junior has moved on to other things, and I need some working memory to talk about spies, and the MI5 and MI6 buildings, and how much of the spy equipment in books is likely to be possible.

—

Fortunately, there are also specialist subjects where you overlap. I am discovering that Mini knows a lot of the songs and rhymes that I do. And is keen to learn more.

I can remember telling Junior about the phrase ‘once upon a time’. There was this frisson: I am getting to tell my child about this really wonderful thing. The magic phrase that starts so many stories.

Now Mini is prepared to hear other magic. Like Morningtown Ride, or Golden Slumbers. And, equally, songs like Yellow Submarine, or She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain.

Every now and then, we’ll find another song we have in common. And hopefully sing it together.

(Sometimes I am told off for this. Including for singing along with a song on CD in the car. It’s obviously fine for Mini to sing along with it, though.)

—-

I’ve written before about those points of connection with a parent: where you share the thing they love.

There is a special status to those things. Even in memory, they have some kind of internal glow about them when you recall them.

I am very grateful that there are those points of connection for me with both Junior and Mini. And that Dan has his too.

And part of me can share a smaller glow when recalling things that are my children’s specialist subjects too.

Even when it’s diggers. Or hub caps.

The post Specialist subjects appeared first on Frydmania.

Serious board game makers and players (and I hardly count myself among them, but I have learned this much) solve the problem with expansion sets.

That way, the game allows for more players. More moves. More rules. More complications too.

So here’s some more summer memories – expansion set style.

===

Indoor golf. It’s the way to go. It’s particularly the way to go when it feels safe, funny, good, day after day. As I write this, we’ve played it for three days straight, and I suspect we will do some more.

It works particularly well in a large hall with smooth floors. So well that we have to stop Junior Player from turning it more into something like hockey – or even lacrosse. (Not our paintwork, sweetie.)

===

Playdough. Making feasts. Particularly, making green spaghetti, cutting it up small, putting it in a pan, tipping it on to a plastic tray, and popping it in the pretend oven. For ten minutes.

(Everything is cooked for ten minutes. I checked with the head chef. Except, I think I got away with cooking pretend gingerbread men for twenty minutes, the other day. Mustn’t tell.)

We develop our own specialisms. Dan does well on fancy cakes and pies – particularly ones with an extra playdough cutout on top. Your age, your initial, whatever you fancy.

===

Cuddles the dog. He’s soft, he’s squishy, and he works well on a swing, or down a chute. Or sometimes dropped, head first, from a climbing frame.

(Lest you worry, gentle readers, Cuddles is a soft toy. All is well. Although his coat does pick up fluff at playgrounds quite effectively.)

On the day I am writing this, Cuddles gets his own bed. It’s a doll’s bed, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, we forget to bring him to the park this time – but we decide he is having a nap.

(He might equally be at the dog grooming parlour while we are out having fun on the swings.)

===

Tomato soup has become its own food group. It’s the cure for anything, really. Although, when an iPad is in the background, there are serious distractions. I know, because the
T-shirts have the stains to prove it.

It is also clear that, whatever is in Mummy’s snack box each day, however many varieties there are, they will all disappear. (But they may also get shared with friends at the park. Which is fine too.)

===

We are telling stories. Stories about us. Stories about what we did yesterday.

Stories about what we did ten minutes ago. We are building up a shared language. The subject matter circulates through the sunshine and the heat.

One day, I tell the story about how I put my watch through the washing machine by mistake.

The next day, the story is retold to me. But then I am given a replacement watch. It’s made out of a twig bent round my wrist, but it does the job just fine.

Because we are back at the park, and you don’t need too much precision when you are trying to keep playing for as long as you can.

===

Everything is of note in this new world. That Mummy wears the same earrings every day. That there are lots of taxis just now, and we can sit on the step and wait for the next one to come.

There are giggles. Misunderstandings. Hide and seek opportunities that were missed the first time and embraced the next. Discoveries that bath toys make interesting noises if you apply them to your tummy. Repeatedly.

We talk backwards about the drive being laid and forwards about significant birthdays next year. We learn new vocabulary for piggybacks and we discover that there are astrogators in the upper atmosphere, if only we look for them.

The summer is rich and full, and even the rain gives us something to talk about. Forwards and backwards, like the swing, going on up to the sky and back.

The post Summer ’14: expansion set appeared first on Frydmania.

Dan and Junior Reader are Lego afficianados. To be honest, it’s building anything – it could be K’nex, or Duplo, or anything else that you stick together.

I admire the things they create – they have a much more instinctive understanding of making than I do. Plus they can both think in 3D, which is a challenge to me.

But the downside of these building sessions is that there are lots of tiny bits, spread out. And when it comes to tidying up, it takes a long time, there’s quite a lot of harumphing over the tidying up, and there’s invariably a few bits that are found later.

So how would it be if you used a blanket for the spreading things out stage – then pulled the corners to form a bag? Then (carefully) tip the Lego into its drawers, and you’re done.

The plus side to this plan, as I see it, is the chance to have a nice comfy surface under you as you sit and build.

The question mark is: do you make it as a quilt? And the even bigger question: should the quilt look like Lego itself?

—

So here’s where I’m at so far on the thinking about this.

I like the idea, and I think it would be very useful. And I have those sturdy handles all ready to use. (More than I need for one blanket. Maybe I’ll make a second scooping-up blanket for something else.)

Downside of a Lego-style quilt: potentially difficult to see the actual pieces on if it looks like Lego too (ie Lego-type colours, similar shaped blocks).

BUT if I did a Lego style quilt, and put a plain backing on it, then you could use the plain side to build on, so you could see the pieces.

And then you’d have the visual joke of the Lego side for other occasions where you might like to have something to snuggle (thinks: Sunday film afternoons?).

Big plus of this: we know the Lego colours already. We know they work together. There’s no pattern matching to do. And the pieces can be Lego shaped, which could be fun to plan.

I think if I do this, I’ll probably aim for using Duplo blocks for sizing, rather than actual Lego sizing, which would be too fiddly to work with.

(After discussion with Dan, that size is probably too small too. Think bigger.)

It might also be an excuse to cut out little bits of coloured paper, and move them around to find a pattern I like. Plus I do have that rotary cutter now, so I should be able to cut suitable sized blocks of fabric.

—

It’s at this point that I see the addiction of making. It’s not just about solving problems; it’s about thinking about the best way of doing so.

I know that if I do this, it’ll be a lot of work. And I do my sewing by hand, so that could mean it takes a while.

But at the same time, I am really enjoying the sewing. If the teeny tiny quilt gets finished OK, then I’ll have some more skills for doing the next stage.

Plus I’ve got a LOT of quilt-stuffing material from those old pillows. I might as well make use of it.

If I can, I’m going to use the fabric left over from the eco bags, where I think it fits sufficiently with Lego colours. I’ve got time to plan it; maybe to hunt for scraps of material that would work.

But in the meantime, I’ve found the perfect scrap of material for another project – and one I’m going to complete first, I think.

It’s an end of bed tidy thing, sewn, with pockets. More on that next time.

The post Making: the scooping up blanket appeared first on Frydmania.

And you can bet that, come mid August, all those bright wee things will have sprouted extra inches of leg and new hairstyles and far more in-depth knowledge of whatever it is they’re keen on.

So maybe it’s time instead to take stock of where things are at now – because assuredly it will all be different when the new term comes round.

===

Like many other places, Edinburgh schools have been overtaken by loom bands. In some places, they are the reserve of girls; in others, boys are working away with the best of them to create whatever the latest plastic bangle look is coolest right now.

Mums chat in huddles, identifying the best deals and the new equipment to make the things on…and others just get fed up with lots of little coloured rubber bands everywhere.

Small D returns home with an aquarium. Think paper plate, blue-ish scene behind, clear film on the front to look like the glass. I rather like the two (actual) shells – and the carefully inscribed lines to show that they are falling down through the water.

Sports days are on and off and happen in the rain and sometimes even happen on good (bright, sunny) days.

There are end of term discos where everyone emerges dripping with sweat and clutching an ice lolly.

I think there may be the great ceremonial pile out off to the park on the last day of term, to play, eat a picnic lunch, play some more. Some of that gradual leave taking before parents batten down the hatches and engage the hard-won Long Holiday tactics.

There are coffees snatched, and parent conversations indulged in before the holidays begin, and an actually still heated beverage becomes but a happy dream.

There are calculations about rate of hair growth and the possibility of hot summer, and decisions to be made about summer haircuts.

There is the counting down of final packed lunches, and snacks, and school uniform washing loads. And there is the complicated deliberation about teacher presents/cards at the end of the school year.

===

Life becomes a little bit more complex at this stage of school – but not too much so yet. Not too knowing yet. Thankfully.

Boys and girls both engage with creating their own little worlds online (mainly through Minecraft).

There are Brownies activities, and judo competitions, and a hundred and one other ways to signal the end of scheduled time for a few weeks.

Playdates involve more requests for (computer) screen time – but messing about outdoors is still high on the list of entertainments.

Swings, and hide and seek, and monkey bars at the park. Even a hammock to try out at a friend’s house, if you’re lucky.

===

We have this stretch of several days of good weather. (For those used to one day sun, one day sea mist in Edinburgh, that’s unusual.) Prolonged grass cutting ensues. The new picnic bench is ready for action in the garden.

There is a scurry for sun dresses and skirts and lighter tops and sunscreen. Wearing shorts to the office (if there’s no visitors that day).

I hunt around the attic for those items that can actually come back out for use: inflatables. Games to play outdoors on the grass.

I work around the other items tucked away, those ones for rainy days and cold days and miserable days.

Not just now. Who knows how long the sun may last, but for now, we’ll live in hope of a little more summer to enjoy.

The post End of term report: June 2014 appeared first on Frydmania.

Occasional days here; school productions there (not yet for Junior Reader, but the school got to watch the final year classes going through their paces).

Junior Reader has become interested in birds – so it was off to look at ospreys on the Monday holiday. More accurately, you look at a TV screen, with cameras trained on the nest, but the ospreys are also on a webcam, so maybe we can see what the chicks are up to next week.

The lambs have stopped their jumping in the fields, and are growing a bit more sedate. Pink blossom starts to come down, covering cars parked beneath the trees.

We tread petals into the pavements as we walk – a mixture of pink and slush, because it is usually rain that brings the petals down.

Cold and warm, cold and warm. The trees and flowers know it’s spring; the temperatures keep going up and down. We dance the late spring coats and gloves dance a little longer. (And rescue the missing child’s glove.)

It’s a time for losing things this week – glasses, glasses case – and, thankfully, finding them again. (And apologising to others who have also been looking for them on our behalf.)

School is looking at non-fiction: so homework includes a sheet where you pull information from different places in a reference book. And a reading book which has penpal correspondence between the UK and the US.

I find myself wondering whether people will keep writing letters or not, in the future. Won’t they just find it all out from Skype – or someone’s online account?

The search for a tent is finally over. Junior Reader proudly lugs it home. It’s really for back garden type activities, at least to start with. (I recommend a sleeping mat too. Thankfully they come in RED, which goes with the red sleeping bag. These things are important.)

We do a bit of DIY, and get down some of the reference books Junior Reader doesn’t normally get to see. Off to Pompeii, a quick survey of classic cars, and the very old British Empire style atlas that is delicate, but fascinating.

Dan and Junior Reader are spending more time on games now. Another go at Cluedo, and some other shorter board games. (I am permitted to nurse a heavy cold and emerge more at mealtimes.)

Junior Reader crafts a card handprint. It’s for the bedroom door, so that you are ‘scanned’ before entering. (I think it’s more of the ongoing spy fascination.)

That’s the idea, except it’s a bit low down for the adults to use. Dan pretends that the voltage is too high when using it for the first time, and we ask Junior Reader to turn it down.

There is also a sudden flurry of homemade cardboard scrolls, with little red circles on the outside, when they’re rolled up, to look like a seal. The most recent one says:

‘My dear people, I am sorry to tell you that we are at war again. From Looey [sic] the 14th, King of France.’

Oh yes, and we finished watching Dogtanian episodes (on DVD) too. Could you tell?

The post That was the week that was: early May 14 appeared first on Frydmania.

Not ‘big corporate event, 600 delegates’ kind of events, but still, arrangements to make, people to look after.

Maybe it’s the current school holidays that brings it to mind, but I’d like to think that my event management skills have come on apace since becoming a parent.

If you rate your event management skills, either of senior or junior delegates, cast your experienced eye over the suggestions below and let me know if I’m missing any.

===

Weather: senior delegates can be relied on to bring raincoats, umbrellas and so on.
(Do bear in mind, though, that not all possess wellies or the ability to cope with windy conditions.)

Weather considerations are particularly important when event planning for junior delegates. Some events for junior delegates may be highly weather dependent: picnics, trips to the park, use of paddling pools.

Should sufficient wellies etc. become available, all-weather puddle jumping activities are often highly rated by junior delegates.

Those wishing to hone their weather-awareness event planning skills should consider joining ‘Scottish summer’ training courses, where event planners include wellies, suncream, midge repellant and swimming costumes among their ‘must-have’ kit.

Transport: this is made much easier by things like bus passes and family railcards. But when booking travel for your junior delegates, have you packed an activity bag for them?

Many senior delegates are able to amuse themselves on train journeys; junior ones need entertainment, snacks, regulated bathroom breaks and robust answers to the questions of when you might arrive.

Seasoned event planners will know the appropriate ratio of activity items to weight of bag that they themselves will be carrying, and prepare accordingly.

Entertainment: senior delegates may just need to add caffeine, alcohol or both. Choose an environment where everyone has to stand, noise levels that mean you can’t often hear the conversation next to you, and you’re away.

Jaded senior delegates may need more help in relaxing. You may wish to add in themed events related to the country of your gathering; dancing; after-dinner comic turns, or other such forms of entertainment.

Junior delegates’ entertainment needs may be tackled in various ways. You can lay on all kinds of excitements for them, including museum trips and days out.

It may be though that their attention is elsewhere (e.g. the marine wildlife outing where the junior delegate’s attention is firmly on the machinery in the venue. I speak from experience.)

You can pursue the ‘this is all new’ entertainment policy. This allows for bracing walks along canal paths, opportunities to admire former industrial machinery while in transit, and so on.

Junior delegates however may come with their own extensive supplies of Ingenuity, Imagination and/or Novelty.

In this case, the event managers may consider skipping down the street with junior delegates, holding hands; inviting junior delegates’ views on spotting dragons in clouds, and other cost-effective entertainments.

Accommodation: Senior delegates are likely to demand a higher standard of accommodation. Rooms with en-suite bath, complementary toiletries, mini-bar etc are all likely to be welcomed, as is free wi-fi.

It is an under-acknowledged fact that junior delegates are likely to be similarly pleased by such accommodation, although the mini-bar may be used more for holding tomorrow’s lunch supplies and event managers’ chocolate rations.

Junior delegates will also appreciate: being able to use keycards to open hotel doors; being able to operate lifts by themselves; being able to eat baked beans at breakfast (aka access to hotel buffets).

Event managers’ essentials: senior delegates are likely to be troubled by an absence of badges, folders, and name tags on lanyards that are instantly discarded after the event.

Pencil cases, clipboards, mobile phones and other similar equipment are expected.

Events managers for junior delegates may need more personalised awareness of the delegates’ wishes.

They may wish to include items such as: favoured cuddly toy; new book or magazine (to be produced, suddenly, for rapid mood improvement); games with not too many pieces for use on train tables.

Other essentials may include: plasters for cut knees and other ailments; snacks and back-up snacks for sudden unassailable hunger; and chargers for mobile devices for when it All Gets Too Much.

===

Happy half-term!

The post Event management: parents wanted appeared first on Frydmania.

Clothes shops think otherwise. Let there be little black dresses, and let them be sparkly too. Hairdressers gear up for the workload that goes with other people’s party season.

You know what they say. Introverts and extroverts both go to parties. (It’s true.)

But there is one group that soaks it all up, and one group that enjoys some of it, then secretly calculates how much a taxi home will cost if you are planning to make a break for it early.

You may have surmised which group I’m part of. (Though really, the fact that I stay home, sit on my own and write on a blog should have already given you some clues.)

The difficulty with parties is the contrast between the expectations, and our reading of what unfolds. Some days, the two may not be so far apart. Hurray for when that happens.

Or we may experience some aspect of the party which redeems it for us. It might be a good chat with a friend we haven’t spent time with for a while.

The odd free drink (depending on the party). The opportunity to see just what the photocopier can work with (depending on your Christmas party preferences).

===

Christmas Past

In my memory, Christmas parties go back to the time of primary school. Those points when suddenly, non-uniform is allowed – and music, games and food combine to inflame the spirits of the under 10s.

You may even have been practising your dance moves in advance of the party. The noble Scottish tradition of teaching ceilidh dances in primary school means you can have most people up and dancing most of the time.

I think, at primary school stage, it was kind of OK. Most of us wanted games, and got them. There was some dancing, but everyone did the same, and no one had to work out what kind of dance moves were acceptable (or not).

There was food. We were expected to like jelly and ice cream, crisps and sausage rolls.
That was good, because we did. Even the wearing of party hats was not a matter of dispute.

Like any party though, there are highs and lows.  In primary school, we don’t always have the social skills to get through. To help ourselves have reasonable expectations of what the experience will be like.

By the end of school, we have it worked out enough, partly through repetition. (And I do have some positive memories of a Christmas party in my first year at secondary school, where the sixth formers brought in the (yes) records, and we suddenly felt terribly cool, dancing to the music of teenagers who had more pocket money than we did.)

But when we reach adulthood: what then? There are expectations of what we wear, how we look, what we drink, how we respond if there are ‘entertainments’. But just what are those expectations?

It would be good if, when we sign our contracts for work, and get our induction packs, someone would slip in a piece of paper that says something about how to prepare for office parties.

There may well be before-party parties, where people down a few to get up the courage to attend the actual party. (I never got invited to these (no great surprise there), but I know they happened because you could identify those who had, when they arrived at the venue.)

Every year, there are serious warnings put out to help people avoid saying and doing the wrong things at office parties. So there must be enough people who didn’t receive that slip of paper in their induction pack, so to speak.

I’m not sure that I ever saw anything particularly significant in that department. But then, I might have been having a good chat with someone, and forgotten to look up.

===

Christmas Present

Junior Reader comes home from the school Christmas party. ‘Not happy Bob…not happy. Ask me why.’ (Or words to that effect.)

Well. It may be wiser to tell you what a true super hero would do if faced with organising a party for kids:

– make sure that every child gets a prize for something at the party – and make sure it happens every year.

– make sure that everyone’s cool dance moves are rewarded

– look out prizes which are not just food ones (not everyone will be able to eat them)

– magically remove any memory of trips, stumbles and other sadnesses of the day. Because if the child is feeling at all out of sorts, tired from a long term at school, or any number of other things, all the other difficulties of the day will be remembered.

I do my best to understand. I do. I am unsure how I would feel these days in a room of school kids where everyone is over-excited – not just the birthday girl or boy, as at other parties.

These days, I don’t get work parties. I get a meal and a chat. The chance to relax. I don’t have to wear a party hat. I don’t have to dress up if I don’t want to (and I generally don’t).

A meal – there’s less pressure on that front. A chat – no problem. The menu may be everything to do with Christmas, or nothing, and either is just fine.

Maybe if I view that as my party, I should see the notion of a Christmas party in a better light?

Meanwhile, I offer snuggling on the sofa and some children’s TV to soothe the wounded breast. It may well work for over 10s too.

And if you’re coming in late from an office party, you only have to wait until 6am to check. But you might want to avoid anything overly cheery, if you’ve had a few too many rounds with the office photocopier.

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I don’t want to adopt the Scrooge approach. I read a bit today about Saint Nicholas, and his frequent and anonymous gift giving. That seemed like a good thing.

At the same time, I seem to have reached a point in life where presents seem less important. I am lucky to have the things I need, and more.

As relatives grow older (clearly I do too), it can become harder to work out what to buy for them, when they too have what they need – some may already be giving away possessions.

And yet. There is something special about receiving a present – and something equally special about planning the right item for the right person.

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Christmas Past

Once upon a time, there was a little girl, who was excited about presents, but not so clear on the notion of keeping secrets. So one year, pre-Christmas, she rushed up to her daddy and said, “We’ve got your Christmas present! We got you SOCKS!”

I have moved on a little since then. (And my father has been known to receive more than socks.)

In my teens, I would think carefully about what to buy – for varied school friends, as well as family. I would even do a special day trip to look for more unusual presents than I might find in our fairly small town.

Once I was old enough to travel a bit further, independently, that was an even better source of presents. Painted wooden candlesticks, bowls and so on from Poland.

Linens from one place – honey from many more. (My mum likes honey, and likes trying different kinds.)

It was fun to go looking, trying to find items typical of a particular place – or things that were just beautiful, and right for someone I had in mind.

It didn’t always go right, of course. The item that I loved might not be so appreciated by a relative who already knew what kind of calendar she liked, and didn’t want a fancy Italian one. Even if it was on beautiful paper.

But mostly, there was joy on both sides. Certainly on mine, as the giver.

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Christmas Present

These days, going across town can constitute a work trip. Going abroad takes lots of planning – and more effort than I remember in the past.

So I am left with my imagination, a few ideas from the Internet at times, and whatever I might come across when doing regular food shops. (This is fine, convenient too, but it’s not always a place of  great gift inspiration.)

What has also changed is my realisation of just how easily gifts can be bought, added to, stockpiled. And all of a sudden, that item that you thought long and hard over, hoped would be treasured, is now just one in a collection of many.

What’s left is a desire not to buy things people don’t want. Which tends to mean I mostly buy tokens, give cash, or (with some relatives) make donations on their behalf.

There’s a small counterbalance to this. It’s less fun to open an envelope than a present, so in some cases I do both: the money for them to choose, and something small to open there and then.

Back in the spring, when I did my eco series, there was one post I had meant to write, and never got round to. The notion was: buy items that can be recycled.

I don’t mean that the person takes them straight off to the charity shop – or into a recycling bin. That would suggest that you had seriously got it wrong.

But items that are made of natural materials; that can be used up (food, of course); that can have a further life with another family, or in a charity shop, if and when you choose to part with them.

Books. Food. CDs, maybe. Games that can be passed on to others in turn.

(If I’m honest, I would just buy books for everyone on my presents list, all the time. I can get excited about that.

But I appreciate that it’s not everyone’s idea of a present – and sometimes even the avid book collector may question the need for another book.)

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Christmas Future

What about you? Are you still a keen present buyer – or recipient? Has it all paled a bit?
Do you look to the kids’ generation to be excited about present giving again?

St Nicholas gave to those who needed it – used up his inheritance that way, in fact. The Christmas story tells us of a priceless gift, one longed for by some, overlooked by others.

I want to come back to something of that sense of value and honouring in the gifts that I give. I don’t know exactly how, in a time and location that seems more about excess than value.

But I’m thinking about it. And as we’re told, it’s the thought that counts.

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You can read the starting point of the theme here. My original thought was to split the posts into a good number of Christmas Past and Christmas Present.

But as soon as I started thinking about topics, I realised that many of the topics have elements of past and present in them. Together. Because Christmas is about continuity, after all.

So today, it’s time to talk about advent calendars. (It should have been yesterday, really, but
I do like an intro to a theme. Gives me a chance to get myself into gear.)

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Christmas Past

We had the standard cardboard, open a door a day, calendars when I was growing up.
I’m sure there were years when I had to share with my brother and deal with that ‘it’s not your turn to open the door today, it’s mine’ malarkey. (It goes two ways, of course.)

But my heart is tied to the perpetual advent calendar that comes out every year. You can see the opening picture here, if you like.

I was given it as a little girl by one of my aunties. I’m not sure where it came from, or whether it was popular at the time. I haven’t come across one at someone else’s house, but I’m sure they are out there, somewhere.

The point of the calendar is it’s really a series of pictures and little poems, telling the Christmas story in a child-friendly way.

So there are children characters inserted into the story at points to say what’s happening:
a little boy helping out in Joseph’s carpentry workshop; another who sees Mary sitting with nowhere to stay, who takes it upon himself to find a place for the couple to rest.

There is something very peaceful about seeing the same images again, year after year.
Many of the verses have become internalised as I read them over again and again.

Really, as adults looking on at Christmas, we long to recapture something of the innocence along with the anticipation. This calendar is one of my ways in.

I may not always make it through the wardrobe, as it were, into the snowy land beyond. But it offers glimpses, chinks of light.

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Christmas Present

We are well up to date this year. Which means, really, we are catching on to the notion that others have had for quite some time now: the step beyond the chocolate advent calendar and on to the minifig version.

Dan was kindly given a Star Wars Lego advent calendar by another company this year.
(Good thing about the tech world: not afraid to claim toys for the grownups.)

It has been received with great excitement by Junior Reader. This is not just about putting together the little figure, you see – you type in a code on a certain website, Sundays only, and get to play particular Star Wars Lego games.

(I am guessing this is the updated version of the Blue Peter advent crown, for those who want to mark the progression of the weeks of Advent without the potential for setting fire to tinsel.)

If Star Wars is not your thing, I see that Lego has done other versions – as has Playmobil.
I am grateful for the freebie because (revealing my inner Scrooge) these are not cheap.

With grandparents happy to provide the general cardboard version on an annual basis, this is no doubt where we’ll be going next time.

But for now, the piano (which doubles as a mantlepiece) is sporting both a Lego droid and a picture of an angel with a trumpet.

Neither seems to be too concerned about the presence of the other. So far.

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There is an obvious mismatch between what kids want weekends to be about, and what parents want weekends to be about. Parents’ thoughts tend to drift towards savoured cups of coffee, reading, quiet – and preferably getting up later than on a week day.

Kids’ thoughts around the weekend tend to ignore the getting up at the same time bit, but it’s fair to say that lots of time to play and have fun would be high up the list of what to do at the weekend.

Time to try out the cunning plan devised a couple of nights ago. I put together some items in a basket, put them upstairs, and left a note on the table for Junior Player to spot at breakfast time.

Clay might not sound like one of the things that brings on parental calm, but Junior Player had been doing some clay activities with Granny Jen over the summer, and there was a nicely worked lump of play left.

There was a little ‘oh!’ and then a ‘can I…?’ Because the right kind of found item is just as inviting the second time round.

Junior Player picked up again at the same spot as before, and completed the model as planned. It didn’t seem to matter that there had been a couple of months in between times.

The thing is, the week is full enough. Full of activities – full too of new found items to bring home. And often in all this fullness, the things we already have, that are good, get forgotten about.

The basket is the start of an attempt to do something about that. To get past the maternal ‘why don’t you play with what you have?’ and make it easy to say yes to things that you actually want your child to have a chance to do.

So now the clay eyeball monster is complete, and also has its own bed. We might even get it painted.

But I think I will forgo the lie-in for that one.

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It may be having your own junior players or joining ones in other families. It may also be needing to do something with dead time on journeys, wet days, being poorly, and the like.

I have come to learn that there is a space for games – and that games can in fact be fun.
For both sides.

I don’t know that I really became a Good Loser when I was younger. But one thing changed, with the passing of time. I became a Senior Player – needing to steer junior players through their own struggles with losing, and with winning.

I had an opportunity to demonstrate what it might look like to win (gracefully), what it might look like to lose (hopefully also gracefully) – or even to draw.

Part of the fun, as a Senior Player, is seeing junior players through the prism of the game. Their involvement, their enjoyment of turning the tables on the adult.

Their excitement at moving on – whether being able to play fully on their own, or simply mastering how to be able to move a figure on a board and count at the same time.

It is so much more about them, and so much less about the game. And it is definitely about the time we spend together as a result.

All of the games I’ve included this month are ones that we play. Maybe not constantly, but all of them have had their place in the last few years. All of them are ones in which it is no hardship to be the Loser – ones which can even make it easier to accept losing.

Part of me doesn’t take on the big strategists, when it comes to games. Playing with junior players levels the playing field for me too, and that is good, for an ex-Sore Loser.

What I love, perhaps the most, is the opportunity for inventiveness that games provide. I like the regular games we play a lot – I kind of have to – but I also love the ones that change every time, like balloon football or games on a tray.

I learn, too, from Junior Player, who is fearless in inventing new games. And who responds, eagerly, when I invent one or two back.

And that will do for now for games. Time to shut the lid – and find a new writing topic for next month.

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Those of you who’ve read the blog in the past know that there’s a seasonal shift around this time of year.  Autumn evenings: words start to flow.  Spring days: more interest in getting out and doing.

This time round, I’m planning to keep going on the writing. Because even if I’ve not been writing, others have. I’ve still been reading other people’s blogs, and gaining things from them.

But the main reason I write is for myself. I write to think clearly.  I write to enjoy words.  I write to remember things – or work out how I feel about them – or both. And even if the season is changing, these things are still the same.

The game

So: back to some games for now. Our trip abroad included the chance to join some other junior players and try out other games, some familiar, some new.

Here’s something new, that we bought on the plane on the way home: story cubes.

Imagine a small box which has 9 dice inside.  Instead of numbers on the dice, there are little pictures – or pictograms, if you will. 9 dice, 6 sides each = 54 different pictures.

The notion behind story cubes is that they make it easy to tell stories. (And in good travelling tradition, they are easy to pack, and to put away.) So it’s a game, if you will, but also a chance to talk, to imagine, and to tell stories.

The way it works

The pictures are great: imagine snakes, ray guns, toadstools, beans, large and tiny figures together, submarines and so on. The notion is that, with 54 different pictures, you can come up with very varied stories.

Junior player has been reading (or more accurately being read to) a series of stories about a boy spy, solving problems in lots of different countries.  The story cubes worked really well for him to retell bits of those stories that he remembered and liked – as well as new ones he came up with.

The impact

The fun thing is the creative element.  You can refer to the picture on a dice really quickly in your story – or spend a long time on it.  You can take it in turns to add in a new picture – or do all 9 pictures into one story by yourself.

Interestingly, junior player was keen to use the dice once we got home, in place of a bedtime story.  Keen too to get them out to show grandparents, and involve them in telling a story. So hopefully this one will run and run, in the best of game traditions.

My inner English teacher is very happy – particularly as this ties in with a book I bought recently on creative/crafting activities to support kids’ storytelling.  But it might just work well for serving up a little writing practice for the blogger in the family.

Practicalities

The dice are normal weight, and the box seems fairly sturdy, so this is a game that looks like it will last well.

You may also want to know that the lid of the box has a useful magnetic clasp, so it’s easy to get the dice in and out, but the box stays shut when you want it to.

You should know that too much shaking of dice, on a plane, could mean they disappear, so you may want to keep an eye on who’s shaking them.  But you should also know that you can fit the 9 dice quite nicely into the cup indent of a plane tray table, so everyone can see them.

I anticipate this should work well on train journeys too – as long as you are not in the quiet coach.  (Or if you are, maybe you’ll just have to whisper.)

Extension activities

The set we got is Voyages – sold as part of the selection on the plane, though no doubt available elsewhere.  There’s an intro set, and an actions set.  You can combine sets of dice to tell more and more stories.

As far as I can tell, the sets are colour coded, including the outline of the pictures on the dice (our set is in green), so you should be able to tell them apart and get them back into the correct box at the end.

I gather you can also use the website for the company to submit stories you’ve come up with, and share them, which might be good for the future.

If you’re looking to find a set for yourself, they’re called Rory’s Story Cubes.  And if you happen to be on a plane journey soon, and looking for a little something to bring home for your own junior player(s), it may well hit the spot.

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But part of the point of games is that they work.  The junior player I was with had no such qualms – she liked the game, and she wanted to play it with me.  A lot.  So we did.

And you know what? It’s fine.  It’s really just about forming sets of cards, bidding for the ones you want to collect and getting rid of the ones you don’t.  (Plenty of card games out there operate on the same principle.)

How to play

For those unfamiliar with the game, you have something like 11 or 12 sets of families.  All the cards are shuffled, and dealt out.  Each player therefore ends up with a mixture of cards across the possible sets.

If you have 3 of one set, it makes sense to try and collect the missing card, and complete your set.  If you have 1, you may want to move it on to someone else – unless you can tell they are collecting that set, and want to stall them doing so.

If you have 2 of a set, it’s up to you whether to collect or not.  You’ll probably get some clues from the other player(s) – if they seem to be collecting it too, you need to decide whether or not to hang onto your cards, and stall them, or focus on a different set to collect.

Once you have a complete set, you put them out on the table, so they all show.  The game keeps going until all the sets are complete, and out.  The winner is the person who has the most sets of cards collected.

Choice of cards

One of the reasons I am less keen on Happy Families is the sets of cards I remember from my childhood.  Each ‘family’ set is a different type of animal or bird, but done up in rather strange clothes, with props etc.

Some of the pictures are sort of sweet – some are downright strange. (Tadpole in a cradle, for the Frog family, would probably be in the latter category, even if it’s ‘accurate’.) I do still have a set, but the choice of pictures has been one of the reasons I’ve been less keen to show them to our own junior player.

I’m sure I’ve played a version of this where the cards are all professions.  Again, this may seem less relevant today, though clearly we still need butchers, bakers, grocers, but not automatically candlestick makers.

However…find a better set of cards, and it becomes a lot more interesting.  The ones we were using on holiday were of ‘international families’ ie still the same sets of 4, but each family representing a different country.

You therefore get a bit about national dress, landmarks of the country (background to each pic), and maybe a bit of self-identification too for junior players (what they are, and maybe what they would like to be).

Making it work

I was mostly playing as a two.  Happy Families probably works best when there are 3 or more of you, because if you ask a player for a card, you don’t know whether they have it or not.  (If there’s just two of you, there’s no question!)

Again, this was my hangup, not my partner’s.  She liked it because it made the game go faster, and she got to bang down her sets of cards quite quickly, shouting ‘Happy Family!’ with each new set.

In other words: if speed makes the game work better for the junior player, go with it.

Having your hands full

Playing as 3 or more may however help if your junior player is having difficulty holding a full handful of cards, because they won’t then have as many to deal with.

It can also help to get your sets in order in your hand, so you can see what you have, and what you are missing. However, if there’s another adult around, to help junior player hold and order their cards, this can help too.

Conclusions

I suspect I might not play this one as much, longer term, but if the pack had appealing pictures, it would probably help.  It doesn’t have the pace (and simplicity) of snap, but can be a good way for junior players to try a little strategy, without it being too complex.

There may be something of a gender influence too – my female junior player was happy to form families, a male one was less taken with the game. I should probably now quiz my brother as to whether he remembers playing it or not.

The important thing, really, is whether you liked the game, whether your junior opponent did, and whether you’d play it again.  And on the basis of a better pack of cards: yes, yes, and yes. Case closed.

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(As I’m on catch up on posts, I’m writing in early April, after Easter – but putting the date as a post in March, because of the game theme. Hope that helps if the timescales don’t seem to add up.)

Hunt the single item

If you have a junior player who has any level of interest in pirates, a treasure hunt is a great idea.  But you don’t need to read too much Famous Five, or indeed other picture books, to realise that finding some form of treasure is a key part of many stories.

This makes it exciting – but it can also lead to tantrums if other junior players feel hard done by.  So it might help to have some form of treasure that everyone can share at the end.

Hunt the multiple items

This particular hunt that I observed recently was an Easter egg one – but it could work well with other smaller items.  It makes it a bit different from a treasure hunt with a single prize, but it can cut down on squabbling if everyone finds some things.

Writing about this now, I could imagine a version of this with hunt the Lego minifigure – as long as you were prepared to let the finders keep them all.  Or they might get to trade them in for a larger item?

(Clearly, you would need to know that you had planted the minifigs, rather than just coming across them in random places, as is more often the way…)

The maps

What made this so good was that each player had a different map – same landmarks, but different arrow clues to help them find the mini eggs.

This meant that everyone got some eggs, no one was competing to grab all the eggs, and everyone had to read their maps to find their bit of the treasure.

It also meant that everyone had a personalised map to keep as a souvenir afterwards.

You will have to decide if you want to hand draw the maps – if time is short, you could hand draw one, copy it, and then write in different arrows on each version.

If you really want to get into the pirate theme, you can always try ageing the paper for your map e.g. leaving it to sit in cold tea to get brownish ‘age spots’, distressing the edges of the paper, and so on.

However, the lust for chocolate eggs may be such that these extra touches are just overlooked – so don’t feel you have to.

Indoors or outdoors?

When it comes to Easter egg hunts, it’s easy to think it has to be outdoors.  Heavy rain on Easter Saturday meant that this wasn’t really an option.

However, an indoor hunt, set up before a spot of fresh air on Easter Sunday, meant that the younger junior players had something fun to do on getting home – and the grownups had time to cook tea.

If you do plan to do an outdoor one, it can be good in a garden where eggs can be tucked into flowerpots, hidden behind garden hoses, and so on.

Match the number of eggs to your junior player’s stamina – no point telling them there are 10 more to find if they’ve already had enough!

Try to remember how many eggs you planted, and where they are, in case the junior players can’t find them. I have a few wooden eggs from Eastern European craft shops, and these can be good to hide a) because they are sturdy and b) because the colours usually make them easier to spot.

Longer prep, shorter hunt

The law of treasure hunts is something like the law of lasagna – it takes a lot longer to get them ready than it does to do them (or eat the lasagna).  But, in both cases, the results are worth it, both for the hunters, and the person who’s set up the hunt.

Having occasional treasure hunts (such as Easter ones) means it’s an occasional effort – and an event that stands out in everyone’s memory too.

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But on our recent holiday, the game played with most fervour was between the adults.
So here’s to Boggle – or indeed, to Ruzzle, as you’ll find it online.

Competitive word games

A note of caution here.  There are different types of word game people.  There are some
(I am one of them) who like interesting words, but are less good at using words to compete. This is why I lose at Scrabble, despite being a ‘words’ person.

There are others who may or may not see themselves as ‘words’ people, but can still spot words out of a set of letters.  If you are in the latter camp, and particularly if you can do this fast, Boggle may be just up your street.

How to play

You have a set of dice, with different letters on the sides.  Most versions of the game give you 16, laid out 4 x 4 within a holder. (You can also get 5 x 5 versions.)

You shake the dice (some sets have a lid to enable you to contain the dice as you shake them), let them land to display a set of letters, and then set a timer. (Your set may come with a small hourglass to give you a time of 3 minutes, or you can time this yourself.)

The notion is to make words of 3 or more letters.  The letters have to be touching ie horizontally, vertically, or diagonally.  The trick is to make as many words as you can, out of the set of letters showing, in the 3 minutes.

You can’t use one letter more than once in the same word.  If there’s an ‘s’ in your set, you can form plurals e.g. act, acts.

You’ll need pencils and paper for each player, so you can note down your words.

Scoring

Once time is up, you take it in turns to read out the words you have found.  If two or more people have the same word, you cross it out, and it doesn’t count for anyone’s score.

Once everyone has read out all their words, count up to see how many you have on your list that no one else had.  (Some turns, you may not have any.)

If you do, you score points: 1 point for each 3 letter word, 2 points for each 4 letter word, and so on. (Check the set you have – some sets may have different scoring systems e.g. 3 points for a 4 letter word.)

The person with the most points wins the round.  You can essentially play as many rounds as you want, but setting a limit (e.g. 5 or 10) can help keep everyone focused.

Online versions of Boggle

Although the gaming started off with Boggle, those with smartphones moved on to playing Ruzzle, later in the holiday.  In this set up, you play as twos e.g. you have to invite someone else to play with you.

Playing online tends to have a shorter timespan – 2 minutes instead of 3 – and fewer rounds – 3 seems to be the standard for most games.

Playing it on a phone means there’s an inbuilt dictionary, which can help.  If the phone has a touchscreen, it’s very easy to drag the letters to form words, rather than writing them down, so you can go faster.

As the one adult without a smartphone, I didn’t try this out myself, but could see that the games went fast. The scoring is done for you, which also helps.

If you like your word games fast and furious, rather than deliberative and tactical (like Scrabble), Boggle could be for you.  But if you discover that your hostess has been playing Boggle since her own childhood…just don’t expect to win. Much. At all.

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In German it’s Das Verrueckte Labyrinth (or the crazy/mad labyrinth). I was playing it in Italy, and didn’t think to check what it said on the side of the box – I was too keen to play it again.

To be honest, we have a set at home, so I should get it out and play some more, instead of just revisiting it every once in a  while.

But when you are playing with at least one other player who rather likes legends and stories, and leads a discussion on which picture you like best in the labyrinth, that is further reason to sit down and play. Without. Further. Ado.

The game

Labyrinth is a Ravensburger game – which is an indication of quality as far as I’m concerned.

Ravensburger is a German company, and I started trying out their games when doing school exchanges to Germany. (Another great one is their sleuthing game, set in London, with more than a nod to Sherlock Holmes.)

Anyway, let’s get my enthusing down to a manageable level. As the name suggests, you are making your way through a labyrinth – less minotaur, more castle dungeon, if that helps you picture it.

The labyrinth has a mixture of directional tiles, if you will – some are straight paths, some are T-junctions, and some are elbow junctions (ie they look like the shape of an elbow joint).

Your task is to move through the labyrinth, following the path that makes most sense to you, to look for treasure.

Visuals

The point where the discussion started earlier was relating to the visuals.  The stone walls denoting the dungeon bit are easy to imagine, but there’s around 25 tiles with pictures on too.

Some of the pictures are on fixed tiles; others are on moveable tiles.

If you ever played Dungeons and Dragons games, or can think back to any kind of quest story, you can probably imagine some of the pictures.  They include pictures of jewels, goblets, swords.

They have also have a mixtures of characters: princess, wizard, goblin, ghost and so on. Finally, you’ll find animals: moth, frog etc.

Despite the D&D reference, this is drawn in a friendly, rather than frightening, style.

Object of the game

This is a game where you each have a piece to move around the board – but no dice are required (which can help if your junior player has had enough of counting on dice for one day).

Each piece has a starting point, in the four corners of the (square) board.

At the start of the game, everyone is dealt a number of cards to show you what you need to collect on your quest – these match the tiles on the board.  You move around the board, ‘collecting’ these in the order you have them in your hand.

Once you’ve visited a picture, you declare it (by turning your card face up). The person who visits/collects all their cards, and gets back to their starting position, is the winner.

Moving around the board

The board has a mixture of fixed tiles and spaces. You have an extra amount of moveable tiles that you fit into the spaces to fill up the board. And – one more.

Having one spare tile means that you can insert it at the edge of the board, into a row which is made of moveable tiles. (You obviously can’t move the fixed tiles, though you will find yourself wishing you could, at at least one point in the game.)

Being able to move a row of tiles means that you can adjust the configuration of the labyrinth. This means you need to look ahead – what row can you move that will make the tiles line up better for you?

Strategy

You can play with just two players. We played as a foursome – this can make it more fun and more complicated, as one person’s ‘good move’ of tiles can undo the planning work of another.

One thing you’re not allowed to do is ‘undo’ the go of the person before you ie you can’t just move the row back to where it was. Other than that, you can move any row you want to – you have to move a row before moving a piece.

Occasionally, the labyrinth is lining up well for you, and you don’t need to move a row – but you still have to move something.  So as well as planning your route, it’s good to work out which row you can move that doesn’t affect where you want to go.

One move I should add in, which I particularly like, is where you have your piece at the edge of the board, in a moveable position. You can use the spare tile to move that row so that your piece comes off the edge of the board – it then goes back on the opposite side of the board.

This can be great if you are getting stuck in your section of the labyrinth – and speeds up getting to where you want to go.

Length of game

The game can take time, particularly if there are several of you playing, and complicating each other’s moves through the labyrinth. I anticipate you could play it with fewer cards to collect/visit, which would speed up the game.

My visual ability decreased the more I chatted during the game, and I ended up having to ask the two (not so) junior players where I needed to go to finish up.  They were rather more interested in beating each other than I was.

Lest you think that this game is out of reach, I’m pretty sure we found ours at a reasonable price on Amazon. Don’t worry about language either – the box has instructions in multiple languages.  And the cards themselves are just pictures, so they’re easy to use.

So if you have a reasonable stretch of time ahead, a coffee just made, a wet day outside, and some agreeable companions for questing with – go forth into the labyrinth.

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But even I can manage the world of Lego when it’s combined with being a game, and with a story background. And you don’t need to study Classics to know about the minotaur – but it’s a great excuse to find some books of Greek myths afterwards.

The concept

I’ll leave you to look up the proper story of the Minotaur – it’s not entirely child-friendly. Think instead of a maze, underground. Somewhere, in its heart, is a beast – bull on the top half, human on the bottom half.

Now consider that, as a game, you can see into the maze from above – so you get to see which way to go.  The minotaur is there to ‘get’ you, but nothing more serious. You are there to outwit it, and show off your cunning.

You, and other players, are trying to get to the centre of the maze – the Minotaur is there to stop you. If it does, you lose a (Lego) figure, but you have three, so you have more chances.

The first person to get all three of their figures (or at least, the most figures) to the centre of the maze wins.

Lego games

For the building enthusiasts among you, part of the fun is that you effectively build the game before you play it.  So imagine a square base board as the starting point – you build up the maze onto this with Lego pieces.

In the case of this game, the building is fairly straight forward – you are building low walls around the sides of the board, and some walls inside the board, which form the maze itself.

Part of the cleverness of the game is that you can also move sections of the walls about – adjusting the walls of the maze slightly so that they can be jumped over, instead of having to go round them.

And if anyone knocks a bit of wall, in their haste to move to the centre? You can just put it back again. Once built, the game stays made up, and goes back in the box as such, so it’s ready to go next time.

Starting the game

The centre has a raised area – this is where the Minotaur figure is at the start of the game, and where you want to get to.  The game will allow up to 4 players – each starts from a different corner – but it works fine with just 2.

You roll a dice to determine how far you can move – up to 6 spaces.  The one bit that can be a little trickier is keeping track of where you started and where you get up to, as the base board just has the usual Lego pegs, rather than individual squares.

The figures you move through the game are small, so this can be a little fiddly, but is fine once you get going.

Moving the Minotaur

The dice has the numbers 3-6. The faces of the dice that would normally have 1 and 2 have grey instead. If you roll grey, you get to play Minotaur, and chase or block the other figures.

When the Minotaur is in play, you get to move 8 spaces – so you’re moving faster than the other pieces, effectively.  You move from the central section, and can move towards any of the figures which may be approaching.

As the Minotaur, you capture another figure by moving so that your go would include going over the space that the figure is on.  When another player throws grey, they can take over being Minotaur, and move it from where it stopped on the board (rather than having to start from the centre again).

Moving your players

As with other games with multiple pieces, you can decide how many pieces to have in play at a time.  It’s possible to get each individual figures to the centre, one by one, but you may find that it works well to start one off, then move a second one out a bit, and so on.

Having more pieces in play means that it’s easier to ‘distract’ the Minotaur – if you only have one piece, the person playing the Minotaur will logically pursue that piece only.

Moving the walls

One of the best bits of the game is the opportunity to move Lego blocks about in the game.  Junior Player was very pleased at this, and the opportunity to configure the maze differently if wanted.

You can also move a wall to block an opponent – so if someone is getting close to the centre, and you can put across a piece that stops them moving on, then they take longer to get the centre.  This can increase your chances of getting there first – unless they do it back to you!

Adjustable rules

Another factor Junior Player really liked was the permission to make up your own rules. If you want to adjust it so that e.g. throwing a 6 two times in a row gets you further, or gives you a penalty, for example, you can – or really whatever you fancy.

You might also want to institute rules about moving walls – but you’ll probably be keeping to the main notion of getting all your pieces to the middle of the board.

Conclusion

I stayed out of the building of the board (see above for why), but could tell that the builders of the family enjoyed this part. The concepts of the game are quite straight forward, but there’s lots of flexibility to adjust how easy it is to get through the maze.

We also appreciated the encouragement to experiment with the game, and make it our own – not many games directly invite you to do that.

Realistically, you could use the same maze setup with a different Lego baddie – Darth Vader instead of the minotaur, anyone? Parents will also appreciate the potential to put the lid on at the end, and know that all the Lego is in one plate (unlike most other household Lego).

However you play it, whoever you have as your baddie – it’s a lot of fun to play.
Natural builder or not.

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It’s probably one of those early games where you learn that thinking out your next move will help you win – or at least block your opponent from winning.

Call it noughts and crosses, or tic-tac-toe, or even three in a row, you are still out to win. It’s the transition from chance to strategy.

The board

We play with a wooden board, with little peg shapes cut into the base.  We have circles or cross shapes that, when placed, fit into the peg shapes, so it’s fairly easy to use.

Others may play with circles or Xs in black and white, or even magnetic boards for when you’re on the move.

The concept

Three in a row can mean three horizontally, vertically or diagonally.  This is the same concept for larger-scale games like Connect 4.

These kind of games work well if you have good spatial awareness, and can spot visual patterns, but with noughts and crosses, the smaller number of pieces makes it easier to identify where to move.

The trick

Junior Player has learned from Dan that the trick is a) start first and b) occupy the peg in the middle of the middle row. From here, it’s easiest to make a row in any direction – and you limit the other player to only being able to get a row on the edge of the board.

If your opponent can only win by going in particular patterns, these are easier to spot too, and to block.

Without knowing the trick, there is a bit more flexibility between the players.  When you do know it, you can win every time – good for you in some ways, but you may find you get fewer goes overall, if your opponent has had enough.

Strategy: the skill

Part of what games help us to do is to learn strategy – whether it’s a small system or a big one. Many of the board games we can play as we get older require strategy – but luck is still part of it too.

I’m not the greatest at strategy.  Pit someone with strategy against someone who doesn’t really get it, and the strategist always wins.  (This does not encourage the Sore Loser to move on.)

It is a balance, too, with junior players. So yes, you may help them learn some strategies, but you probably find some ways to level the playing field a little in the meantime.

This is why games with a chance element have worked well for us – because junior players have as good an opportunity as any, and because chance can undermine the strategist too.

And part of why we play, in any case, is because we don’t know the outcome – so it becomes worth our while to try, and to influence that outcome if we can.

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People don’t seem to tire of Pooh sticks. New generations of junior players still enjoy it. And it’s the ideal distraction activity if a family walk is starting to feel a bit too long.

The origin

I hesitate on explaining Winnie the Pooh, but for those who need to know, Pooh invents the game.  He drops a stick on one side of a bridge, and goes over to the other side of the bridge to see it come out.

The reason it becomes a game is because of the opportunity to play with someone else (Piglet, in Pooh’s case), and see whose stick comes out the other side of the bridge first.

Finding your spot

You need to look for somewhere where the water is flowing fast. Sluggish or stagnant water is no good – which is why it won’t really work on a pond, unless there’s at least a little bit of a current.

If the water is high, and running fast, it can be particularly exciting, as it can feel like the sticks are also racing YOU – by travelling under the bridge really fast.

The more junior your players, the more you need to consider how easy it is to see over the side of the bridge – or at least through the side, if the bridge is slatted or has gaps you can see through.

If the river is fast moving, you may want to make sure that your junior player can successfully drop their stick in the water, without endangering themselves in the process. (There is also the story of Roo falling in the water, as part of the Winnie the Pooh stories, but you don’t really want to renact that one.)

Finding your stick

The notion is that it should be a stick, but it could also be something else identifiable that will float. Avoid anything too light that will get blown away as it goes down into the water (pieces of grass from junior players’ pockets, for example).

An advantage to the game is that it allows you both to collect sticks on your walk AND to leave them behind (grownups cheer at this point), by dropping them in the stream.

The more distinctive your stick, the easier it is to identify. However, you also need to caution your junior player against too big a stick – again, you don’t want them to hurl themselves in when dropping the stick into the water.

The real point of the game

The point is, of course, for your stick to come out first. But the real point of the game, as I remember it (and I observe it) is the fun of shouting ‘one, two, three, go!’ and dropping your stick on ‘go’ AND the rush across the bridge to the other side.

Being able to see your stick on the other side is good – but I often think that the launching the stick and the rushing is even better.

So, make sure you’ve allowed for more than one stick. You will, of course, want another go.

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I say balloon tennis. It could be balloon football, balloon volleyball – even balloon golf, if you have a mini golf set about the place.

The point is that, with a balloon, and two or more players, you have the best chance of the game becoming whatever you want – which is part of the appeal. No breakages, and (if you set up the rules carefully) no need for grownups to rise from the sofa.

Add in the fact that it proves a great distraction on a wet day, and you have a sure-fire winner of a game.

Balloons – and where they come from

No matter how many and varied the toys are that your junior players know, they never fail to enjoy balloons. Best individual item in a party bag, as far as I’m concerned – and party bags are probably the most frequent source of balloons.

You can also rely on family fun events, as well as magic shows, a certain number of restaurants, and no doubt more. And if you get a helium balloon, they’ll last for months. (They also go pop less easily than regular balloons.)

Balloon sports: from the bed

This is ideal for weekend mornings when grownups are finding it hard to get out of bed. Junior player stands at the foot of the bed, adults stay in bed. Remit of where the balloon goes – mostly back and forward, but shots to the side of the bed are also permitted.

If the junior player is also the ball boy or girl, you’re sorted. (If they’re old enough to bring you a cup of tea in bed…well, one can but dream.)

Balloon sports: from the sofa

Similar notion. Adult stays sitting down as much as possible (or at least, this is the version I prefer). If you have a couple of sofas opposite each other, this is idea, but a sofa near an armchair can also be good.

If you play across the central space, you can also invent forfeits if the balloon touches the floor in the middle: imaginary crocodiles,  piranhas, and the like.

Balloon sports: over the tops of chairs

If you want a volleyball version of balloon sports, an armchair could work quite well as a net equivalent.  This encourages the play up and over, rather than just straight.

Junior players may also enjoy hiding behind the chair and popping up suddenly when it’s their turn to hit the balloon. Jack in a box meets balloon volleyball.

Balloon sports: doorways and hallways

If you have two doorways opposite each other, you can have fun using them as goals, and trying to get the balloon into your opponent’s goal. Make sure the doors are well back, so that you avoid players banging into the doors by mistake.

Alternatively, one player stands at one end of a hallway, and tries to see how far they can make the balloon go.  This is where those mini golf clubs can come in handy (as long as junior players can be relied on not to hit each other with them).

However, I could imagine other items that could work just as well: foam swords, possibly lightsabres, and even rolled up newspaper as a form of a bat.

Balloon sports: the static electricity trick

If your junior players are tiring of this, finish up with the static electricity trick.  Take the balloon, and rub it on some clothing – up and down a woolly jumper is ideal.

Once you think you’ve built up some charge on the balloon, there’s a couple of options.  If you or a junior player has reasonably short hair, pass the balloon over their hair to make it stand up. (This works particularly well if the person has quite fine hair.)

Alternatively, stick the balloon against the wall, and the static should hold it there.  You could make this into a game too – take it in turns to charge up the balloon, and time how long you can make it stick to the wall.

And if it pops? Well, in my experience, you won’t have to wait that long for another one…

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If the Gruffalo game allows you to enact a story book, Fleeced is a board game where you play out the action of the third Wallace and Gromit animation: A Close Shave.

This time, the game takes one aspect of the story – sheep rustling – and turns that into a means to compete against other players.

Plus, there’s whistles.  And you are encouraged to use them.

The animation – and the characters

Wallace, the bumbling inventor, and Gromit, his faithful (and much more able) dog, are the stars of a series of animated films by British animators, Aardman.  Wallace loves cheese, particularly Wensleydale.

A Close Shave introduces a few additional characters: Sean the Sheep, Wendoline (owner of a wool shop) and Preston, her (robotic) dog. The board game also borrows a popular character from the second animation: the evil Penguin, able to disguise itself as a chicken by the simple addition of a rubber glove on its head.

This gives you six characters for use in the game.  The game pieces are little models of each character, with a nice weight and feel in the hand.

Junior Player knows the characters well – including the spin-off animated series for Sean the Sheep – so this works fine for us as a family. It probably does help to have seen A Close Shave first, but you could use the game as a reason to watch it, if you haven’t already.

The additional character: the setting

Part of the delight of the animations, for me, is the north of England setting. This is worked out to good effect in the visuals on the board.

The board resembles a map of where Wallace and Gromit live, with roads leading into the centre, at the village green. There are lots of puns too, in shop signs, adverts on the sides of buildings etc, in keeping with the many written puns in the Wallace and Gromit animations.

This will appeal more to the grownups, but as junior players’ reading skills increase, they are likely to enjoy these too.

Notion of the game

The players start at the edge of the board, in their respective locations: their homes, Preston’s factory, and so on. You have 2 dice to throw, meaning that you can move quite long distances around the board.

Everyone makes their way to the village green, and to one of the buildings around the green (shop, town hall, and so on). If you have a ‘key card’, you can open one of the buildings, and steal sheep.

Blow your whistle – steal some sheep!

Picking a sheep rustling card gives you a certain number of sheep – you pick little model sheep out of a bag. You line them up behind your playing piece, and lead them back to your starting point.

Other players are trying to do the same – and potentially to steal away some of your sheep, while you’re en route. The game ends when all the sheep have been led back to the edges of the board.

The biggest attraction, for Junior Player, is that everyone is given a whistle (like a shepherd’s whistle). Every time you start to move your sheep, you have to blow your whistle.

Each sheep piece has a number on the bottom.  By counting up the numbers at the end, you see how many you’ve scored – the person with the highest score wins.

Additional cards

Everyone gets some additional cards at the start of the game. These cards are a bit like chance cards in Monopoly – they can work for you or against you.

Some cards allow you to jump to a square with a piece of cheese on it (allowing you to pick up another card), others to particular buildings around the village green.

Some cards also allow you to multiply your dice score, so that you move around the board more quickly.

Notes on playing

When your junior player gets a bit more confident on counting above 10, and reading a bit, the game really works – because they can work their way round the board, and read the instructions on their cards.

For a less than eager counter, working out their final score proved to be a fun way of counting.

The quality of the board, and pieces, make this an enjoyable game to play – and the whistles really add to the fun. Junior players will particularly enjoy landing close to another player’s line of sheep, and leading some of them off to their own home square.

Even though sheep rustling is a villain’s activity in the animation, playing a game means that there needs to be a basis to win.  This can be a place to explore good and bad roles, in a low-key way.

We found our set second-hand, for the bargain price of £2, but as it seems to have been out for a few years, you may also find it at a good price elsewhere.

Best played with cheese and crackers to hand, no doubt – particularly Wensleydale.

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It works best when you know the Gruffalo description quite well, but it can be a good way of introducing grandparents and others to the rhymes – as well as the opportunity to say ‘I’ve got a poisonous wart, but I haven’t got knobbly knees’, and other such leading sentences.

The book(s)

The Gruffalo is a picture book by Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffer – the hero of the story, a mouse, invents a scary monster (the Gruffalo) to escape from other animals that might want to eat him.

All is going well when the mouse suddenly meets his nemesis – but who is the scariest in the end?

Donaldson’s verse sparkles, Scheffer’s illustrations have the right mix of accessible and a little bit scary. The book has been a huge favourite in the UK for over a decade, leading to a follow-up book, The Gruffalo’s Child.

Book to game

There’s been quite an increase of popular children’s books becoming the basis for board games – you’ll find the same with Going on a Bear Hunt, and I’m sure there’s more.

As a lover of children’s books, particularly picture books, I’m sometimes a bit unsure about all of this (and a lot of the other merchandising that goes with these books).  Can’t the book just be the book?

At the same time, a good story works in retelling – and where a board game allows you to retell a story, through playing out the drama, I can see the appeal more straightforwardly.

Premise of the game

The game is quite like pairs, in that you have lots of counters turned face down, and you need to remember where they are to pick the ones you need.

The way this works is that the pictures on the counters match the different elements of description of the Gruffalo – here’s where the poisonous wart, the purple prickles, and all the rest come in.

There are 9 elements of description, split into 3 areas (‘bases’) on the board.  You collect all 9 counters, and proceed on to the end of the game (where you can gain a nut – the reason for the mouse’s stroll through the woods in the first place).  The person to get there first wins.

Starting off

Everyone has a counter with a picture of the mouse – each counter has a different colour so you can tell them apart.

You move by using a spinner – the needle on the spinner points to numbers (1-4).  This makes it relatively easy to count, and move, for younger players.

The spinner is used both to identify how many spaces to move on the board, and how many counters you can turn over, when you get to on of the 3 ‘bases’.

All the counters are turned face down, and are in the middle of the board.

Picking your counters

Everyone also has a smaller board with a picture of the Gruffalo, and circles to indicate the different elements of him, matching the counters.

When you get to a ‘base’, you spin the spinner. If the spinner needle stops on 3, you can turn over 3 counters in the middle of the board.

If any of them match the ones you need for your smaller board, on this ‘base’, you keep the counter, and fill the space on your board. If they don’t match, you turn them back over again.

Moving around the board

It’s fair to say that the first base takes the longest – there are the most counters on the board, and therefore more ‘wrong’ guesses that you could make.

Once you’ve filled the first 3 circles on your board, you move on round to the next base, and try to collect the counters for those 3 descriptions.

Dependent on how well the guessing is going, some people may be ahead to the second or third base while others are still on the first.

The longer the game goes on, the fewer counters are left – and the more you may have seen them already.  This speeds up the identification of counters you need, so that it’s quite quick by the 3rd base.

You need an exact throw to land on the end square and win, so sometimes you can be going back and forth in the final section for a while, even after you have collected all the counters you need.

Notes on playing

It tends to be luck if you get the counters you need quickly – but if someone ahead of you turns over e.g. 2 counters the same, you could remember where the other one is, and pick that up yourself on your go.

This is where knowing the story helps – if you have the rhyme of the Gruffalo’s description firmly in your head (as many parents do), you can run through this, and help remind yourself what counters you’re collecting at this stage.

Try to make sure that junior players put the counters back in the same place (and don’t turn them over and back too quickly), so everyone has a chance at remembering where the other counters are.

As with pairs, junior players have a bit of an advantage, as they tend to find it easier to remember what counter went where than the grownups. (At least, that’s my experience of it.)

The rules also suggest that, with younger players, you can leave the counters face up after guessing.  This makes it much quicker to spot the counters you need, and cuts down on frustration in that first section.

Conclusions

All in all, it entertained both Junior Player, and both grandparents, and junior players may well enjoy the chance to recite the Gruffalo description to other players who know it less well.

As the counter positions are randomised, this is a game you could replay quite a few times. The quality of the board and pieces is good to play with. And the game element could mean that this would work for a range of ages, even where the junior players might have outgrown the books themselves.

If you get to the stage where the board game evokes:

‘Oh help, oh no,

It’s the Gruffalo!’

then it might be time to pass it on to another junior player of your choice…

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Like all the best games, Jenga is intergenerational, and has elements of skill without relying too much on an ability for strategy. It also happens to be a great game for those with steady hands.

What is Jenga?

Jenga is all about a pile of wooden blocks. They stack in piles of threes, first one way, and then the other, making a (hopefully) strong structure.

You have about 20 levels of bricks – they tend to come with a plastic sleeve that helps you with your initial tower shaping.

The next step is to remove a brick from lower down the structure, and add it to the top of the stack.  Each player does this in turn.

You have to remove a brick a certain number of layers down from the top – I think there need to be 5 or more complete layers between the top and the level you’re wanting to remove a brick from.

The game stops when someone’s attempted selection of brick means that the tower falls down. (It’s all about the crash, really.)

Strategy

So far, so good.  How do you decide which bricks to remove?

If you remove a brick from one side of a set of three, there is the potential for the structure to wobble.  It can be useful to remove the central brick of the three instead, to keep the structure stronger (and make the game last longer).

Part of the fun is in scaring your opponents with where you choose to remove a brick from.

It is perfectly possible to remove a brick from the bottom, or next to bottom, row – in fact, it’s often easier than taking one higher up, because the structure feels more stable lower down.

One hand behind your back

Jenga also works well when you only use one hand to remove the brick. (You might allow for one hand on the other side, to catch the brick as it comes out.)

With practice, you can use one finger to slide out the brick you want to move, and the other fingers on that hand to steady the tower as you do so. We also tend to allow for a certain amount of ‘tapping’ at bricks in the structure, to see which ones are easier to move.

Change over time

When you first buy a set of Jenga, the blocks fit well, and are stiff to move.  This makes for a strong tower, but it can be harder to get the bricks out without knocking down the tower.

Over time, the bricks get smoother to move, and the fit becomes slacker – easier to remove a brick, but also easier to knock the tower down, if the layers above aren’t stacked so well.

Buy wood

At one point, I spotted a plastic travel version of Jenga second-hand, and picked it up. Concept OK, but not half as much fun as playing with wood – particularly because the plastic is more prone to falling over.

A lot of the appeal of Jenga is the feel of the wood, the different grain patterns on different bricks.  It would probably be lovely to make your own version of, but your woodcutting skills would probably need to be pretty exact, to keep the brick proportions the same.

Large version

Such is the popularity of Jenga that you can get large versions of it too. Think large-scale chess games – why not play Jenga in enhanced size too?

I must admit, I’ve never had the chance to try a set like this, but I quite like the idea. Given time, I’ll see if I can find a picture of one somewhere.

But whatever size you play – whatever generations of family, or friends, you have with you – this is one game that Just Seems To Work.

And whatever your thoughts on winning or losing, having at least one game that works, whoever you play it with, is well worth the investment. Whether or not you stick your tongue out as you play.

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Ways to like games (when you don’t)

If you are the Sore Loser at home, it can help to go somewhere else to play games. Somewhere where there are different games, where you can reinvent your player status, perhaps.

One of these places was going to my grandparents in Edinburgh.  We weren’t there very often, the games weren’t the same as the ones at home, and somehow I got over the gameplaying grumps, and enjoyed some of it.

Find what you’re good at – and play that

If you don’t like games, maybe it’s worth thinking about what you’re good at, and seeing if there’s a game based on that.  It might be counting, it might be spotting patterns – it might even be keeping a straight face. Work on that.

One thing I can manage a certain amount of is sleight of hand (for want of a better description). Think Jenga (separate post to come there), and, in this case, pick-up-sticks.

I have a feeling that it may also be known as Spillikins, but for me, it’s pick-up-sticks.

Pick-up-sticks

On to the game in hand. Pick-up-sticks is a bit like a handful of double-ended chopsticks. They are wooden, come in different colours, and usually the ends are sharpened to points. (Invoke enough adults to play at this point, if the description makes you nervous).

The sticks are kept in a tin, a long thin canister. (Part of the interest, for the Sore Loser, is the vintage tin – one I now own, in fact.) It’s best to have a flat surface to play on, something like a tray or a table top.

Tip the sticks out of the tin, and let them fall on the flat surface.  The trick is now to acquire as many sticks as you can, taking it in turns to…pick up sticks.

Strategy

The easy ones are any that have rolled to the side, and can be picked up without disturbing other sticks. (If you move an additional stick, when trying to pick up the one you’re aiming for, you’re out.)

Here’s where the sleight of hand comes in.  Once you have a couple of sticks in your possession, you can use them to help get others.

The best way of doing this is to use the point of one to press down on another stick, so that it slowly flips up, and you can pick it up without disturbing other sticks.

You can also see if you can carefully get a stick under another one which is propped, as a way of levering it out.

Scoring

The main aim is to have as many sticks as possible. However, there is also an element of scoring if you need it.

Without the tin to hand, I can’t remember all the scores, but suffice to say that the ones you have most of (orange?) score lowest.  There is only one black one – so that scores the highest.  I think the other colours are white and yellow.

Satisfaction

As a child, it can be hard to get into games if you can’t do the mental work fast enough, whether that’s strategy, spelling, or whatever else.  But you CAN lift up one stick when a grownup has tried and failed…and that is often enough.

I dare say you could make your own set fairly easily, if you had some dowelling rods. I have also seen sets which are plastic, though those don’t have as much weight – an element of weight is helpful (particularly when your opponent is trying to lever out a stick, and a number roll on top. Satisfyingly.).

Part of the fun is also the visual of the colours, the explosive shape of the sticks spreading out in different directions, and the sense of defying gravity – just a little – when you make your sticks move away from the rest of the bunch.

I may even go as far as trying to take a photo of the set I’ve got, just to show them off.

Which goes to indicate that, sometimes, Sore Losers just need to find what they can win at. And if the game is good to look at too? Bonus.

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But the illness had its upside – because we had been given a pack of UNO just before the bug struck. Junior player, continuing to build reading skills, thought that it was pronounced ‘you know’ (which is fair enough really – think university, unity and lots of other words where you say ‘you’ at the start).

Rather a lot of my blog posts seem to be referring to my personal history.  UNO is part of my family’s history – but not mine.  Because when I started full-time work in the first half of my gap year, and everyone else went on holiday together, they discovered UNO. And I wasn’t there.

Needless to say, they all know about UNO – but for some reason, they didn’t spread the cheer. (Probably my Sore Loser status at the time.)

My mum helps out in a local school, and whenever they have one of those ‘end of term bring in games’ type days, she always brings in UNO. I think she’s a bit of a shark when it comes to playing. We will wait and see, because we haven’t yet had a match.

Mum and Dad refer to UNO with a mock Essex accent, since it turns out they met a family from Essex on that particular holiday, and I think the family must have introduced them to the game.

But really, however you come across it – whether now, or in a couple of decades’ time – do. Do try it.  You’ll be hooked.

What kind of game is it?

UNO is a card game.  The box holds slightly over two normal packs’ worth of cards (106, if you want to know).

UNO doesn’t really need you to count – bonus.  You need to recognise numbers 0-9, and four colours, and that’s about it.  The pack suggests you need to be 7+ to play, but I think it could be possible at a younger age.

The main constraint, in fact, is whether a younger player can hold a larger number of cards in their hand.  But you can probably find a way for them to lay out their cards next to them, without you seeing them.

How do you play UNO?

Everyone starts with 7 cards.  (You could play with fewer to start you off, if you wanted.)
You have the rest of the deck of cards face down, and one turned up: that’s the card that sets the number and the colour you’re playing on e.g. blue 4.

Everyone takes it in turns put down a matching card. You can either match the colour e.g. you could play a blue 7, or you match the number e.g. red 4, which would then mean the next player has to put down a red card (or a 4).

If you can’t put down a card, you pick up another from the top of the deck.  If it will fit where play is up to, you can put it down straight away.  If not, you keep it in your hand.

Bit by bit, you get down to 1 card left.  You shout UNO at this point (ie ‘one’ card left). If you can play your final card on your next go, you go out, and win the game.

Shaking things up: the action cards

The other cards are easy to identify from the symbols.  There’s a miss a turn (a circle with a line through – like a road sign), and a reverse card (arrows – so the play goes the other way round the group of players).

There are coloured ‘pick up’ cards, where the first player puts down the card, and the next one has to pick up cards from the deck e.g.

Player 1: blue 3

Player 2: blue 2+ card

Next player picks up 2 cards, and play stays on blue.

Changing colour

There’s a card with 4 colours on – that allows you to change from the colour of cards you are on at the time.  This can be a bit of a relief, at times, if everyone has exhausted their supply of a particular colour.

For junior players, there’s one more card type that usually brings on cackles of glee before they play it.  The card shows four colours and +4 on it – that means you both set the new colour AND make the next player pick up 4 cards.

As we’re still newer to the game, I won’t put down a tactics section yet – maybe in a few days.

Ease of play

I just need to say that, even if you are down with flu/cold/stomach bug, you are still generally able to play this game.  You can play it in bed, or on the sofa, or at a table, as long as you have some kind of flat surface to put the cards onto.

All of this is great news for the person playing nurse, working out how to occupy the invalid. But I’m also thinking train journeys, or ferries, or any of those other times where there’s enough time and space to bring out a pack of cards.

Are we feeling better now? Thankfully, yes.  Are we hooked on UNO? Most certainly.

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This is another card game – one which needs a bit of space to spread. So this is one that’s less good for the train, OK for the floor (for a while), better for a decent-sized table.

How to play

As the name suggests, it’s all about making pairs. You have a pack of cards, and lay them all out face down.

Each player takes it in turn to turn over two cards.  If they match (and are therefore a pair), the player gets to keep them, and display them.

If they don’t match, the player turns them over again, and the next player has a go.

The more you can remember which cards went where, the easier it is to remember where the ‘other half’ of a pair is, when you turn up a new card, and the more pairs you can make.

The player with the most pairs wins the game.

Management

It can help to state a couple of rules at the start of the game to make it fair all round:

1) When you turn over cards, do it at a reasonably slow pace, making sure the other player(s) can see what you turned over. If you don’t, the other player loses out on seeing which cards have come up.

2) Try and make sure that the cards are put back down in the same places, if they don’t form a pair. If not, it can be very hard to remember where a given card is.

It is likely that the junior player may still win, even without these rules, given that their memory is less cluttered up than an adult player’s. But the rules make it a little fairer – and help junior players learn a little consistency and consideration for other players.

The art of cards

One of the nice aspects of pairs is that it lends itself to variety within packs of cards.  As you need lots of different pictures (two of each picture to make a pair), it can work well to have sets of similar items.

The set we have which I like the best is a transport related one.  For junior players who love all things vehicular, this is ideal, particularly if you win a pair of a favoured vehicle.

It can be harder to play, sometimes, when e.g. types of transport are similar, and you mistake which is which. However, the pictures in this set are particularly nice quality, so I enjoy the game (even when I lose).

You can also have pairs sets where the objects are more varied: a teddy, a plane, and so on. This means they aren’t as coherent a whole, but it can make them easier to remember. Swings and roundabouts, in terms of ease of winning.

Timing

The one downside of pairs is that it can take a while to play, and junior players’ attention spans can be limited. A couple of options here:

– reduce the number of sets of pairs you are playing with, so it’s quicker to complete

– allow for the cards to remain turned up, so everyone can see them.  This means it’s less about ‘straight’ memory, but a bit more about visual memory, which can be good if junior players are learning about patterns like letter formations or numbers.

It’s not automatic that the junior player wins – but they do particularly like doing so in this game. (You can even sneak in a little maths by asking them to count how many pairs they’ve won.)

Snap vs pairs

You’ll find that you can also use snap cards to play pairs with – this means you have more pairs to build up, but equally more chance of winning.

For those who are less keen on the fast pace of snap, but still like card games, pairs offers an easy game to play, where skill (memory) plays a part, but where strategy is not yet needed.

And if you get pairs of trains, tractors AND diggers, you might just make a small person’s day.

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There’s a whole load of instructional writing out there on the web. I’ve read a fair amount in the last few months, and I’m sure I’m not even starting to scratch the surface.

In the world of web, part of what makes sites good, from a user’s point of view (or at least it’s thought), is having something you can take away from reading a blog post. You don’t just want to read it – you want to be able to do something afterwards.

There is of course the video option as well, but as I’m not even really using photos in the blog at the moment, let’s just say that video is a step far too far for now. (Plus I’m interested in writing, not in learning how to make videos.  At least, not at this time.)

I started this month’s posts on games, partly because I’d reorganised my list of categories when starting to revamp the blog.  I had discovered that I had a category – games – which I was surprised to have. (You’ll have to read the post at the start of the month to see why the Sore Loser avoided games for so long.)

Writing, reading, food – no problem. Lots of posts. Why not rebalance things a little for the other categories? So I started writing. And discovered that this was just as much an exercise in writing – this time, in instructional writing.

We’ve all come across instructions that didn’t make sense. Trying to get your words right, so that people can follow the actions and come out with a finished product, is a hard job.

I’m not trying to do that, exactly, but I am trying to give you a sense of how a game unfolds. I’m also bearing in mind that no two game sessions are the same (even if it feels like they are, sometimes, playing Snap for the umpteenth time).

All of this is to say that it’s been a good challenge to try some instructional writing.  I’m not off to tell you how to make a lampshade any time soon (though Dan has been viewing a few posts and videos to see how it’s done), but I might do a little more food writing one day, and it might just help.

And part of the point, for me, is flexing my writing muscles.  Going in a particular direction, facing a writing challenge (or opportunity), and keeping going.

Every month I write, I find that things shift, usually around 10 days in.  My original reasons for writing about that topic may have been used up.

What is left is perhaps the real reason for writing that month: where the topic leads me. What I learn along the way. Trying on different writing styles is just part of that learning, at least for now.

Some blogs have very clear topics – even, just one.  I am still trying to find that topic – or at least, narrow down to a few.

Yet, while rolling out these posts, and finding a whole lot of memories along the way, I realise that, for now, I want to write broad, rather than narrow.

So if you’re sticking around for the ride – welcome.  I don’t quite know what’s coming next either.  But that’s OK too. Because I’m sure there’ll be some words to use, when it does.

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This is the premise of Zoo Am I? – the bonus being that you get to see the picture of the animal throughout, which makes it easier to keep answering the yes/no questions.

The kit

Zoo Am I? seems to be available in supermarkets – we got ours as a present.

The main part is a nicely illustrated set of animal cards. Most are easy to identify – some are more unusual species.

The extra bit is a set of coloured bands.  You snap them together (two bands makes a size to fit round your head) – they’re size adjustable, so they’ll fit kids and adults. The box comes with 4 sets of bands, to allow for up to 4 players.

The front of the band has a little slot where you can fit in one of the animal cards.

Getting ready to guess

Once you’ve got your headbands on, shuffle the animal cards and fan them out, face down. Each player picks a card for themselves, but doesn’t look at it.

It’s probably easiest for you to ask another player to take your card, and put it in the slot at the front of the headband.  This means that they can see your card, and you can’t.  Do the same so that all the players have their cards ready in their headbands.

Starting to play

Take it in turns to make guesses, as described in the Animal Vegetable Mineral post.  It helps to go from broad questions (‘Does it fly?’) down to more specific questions (‘Is it an owl?’).

The plus point is that the person answering the questions can see your card at all times. This helps with thinking about categories e.g. questions about colour, size, wings, legs, beak, claws.

You can also see your opponent’s card at all times, which gives you the same benefit.

Solving the puzzle

When you think you’ve asked enough questions to guess the animal, go for an identifying question (‘Is it a zebra?’) If you get it right, the other person has to confirm it.

If, after lots of guessing (and hopefully some clues, Big or otherwise), you give up, you can remove your card and see what the animal is.

Improving play

We’ve mostly played as twos, and this can help – you take it in turns to ask the questions, but you don’t have to wait too long until your go.

You learn possible questions from your opponents, too, so it can be good for grownups to model possible questions to junior players.

I’ve found that some of the more unusual animals are harder to guess, which can bring frustration for junior players.  One way round this is to put an elastic band round these cards, so they stay separate.

When you come to shuffle the cards, you therefore just use the ones which are straightforward to guess.

Conclusions

I’d say this one was a slow burner – Junior Player liked the headbands, liked the cards, found the question progression harder work. (I don’t really like the headbands, but I can see why they help.)

However, over time, this one has been requested quite a bit, and the quality of the cards, and variety of animals, means that it’s generally a good game to play.

I imagine that you could use an animal card as a template and make up your own cards, on a different topic, to extend the game in a different way.

It would probably help to choose a topic where there’s a lot of variety, as there is for animals, so that it’s easier to work out what the card is through your questioning.

And if all else fails, I’m sure you could make streamers and customise your own headband, for a craft take on it all…The choice is yours.

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For whatever reason, this seems to get played at the dinner table, when we’re all home.  (Thankfully, the others are not necessarily applying the game to what’s on their plates.
Or else, quite frankly!)

I think there is something to do with having the time and relaxed space to play a game of deduction, that works. Just as teatime offers a chance to chat, it offers a chance to combine talking and playing, which is generally fine by me.

It’s also an interesting way of Junior Player learning about the difference between broad and narrow categories – as well as a test of memory for all of us to work out which questions have already been asked.

How to play

The name of the game gives the starting point.  One player thinks of an item – the others have to guess what it is. The opening question is therefore: ‘Animal, vegetable or mineral?’

In practice, it’s generally easier to stick to animal or vegetable – mineral covers an awful lot of possibilities. (You can also include the question of whether the item is still alive/in existence or not, but we haven’t gone there yet.)

You have to ask questions which can be answered by yes or no only.  The notion is that you keep going until you guess the right answer, going from broader questions to narrower ones by the end.

You can also choose to make this 20 questions – in which case it’s up to you whether you just start in with a question, or use the opening ‘animal, vegetable…’ to begin.

Broad to narrow categories

We’ve played this quite a bit with a different game, Zoo Am I? (alternative post some time), so Junior Player has a notion of how this works.

You start with questions where knowing yes or no will give you the chance to cut out quite a lot of alternatives. e.g.

‘Does it live on land?’

If you get a yes, there’s still lots to choose from; if you get a no, however, you cut out lots of options, so it’s easier to ask follow up questions.

If the animal does live on land, you could ask another fairly broad question to cut out some more options e.g.

‘Does it live in a jungle?’ OR ‘Does it have 4 legs?’ OR ‘Does it eat meat?’ and so on.

Narrowing the search

Once you feel you are getting closer, you can start to try some narrower questions e.g.

‘Is it brown?’ Asking the colour too early on gives you too many options – asking later can help you get closer to identifying an individual animal. And finally:

‘Is it a monkey?’ can help you play your hunch, and see if you are right. If not, you get to keep guessing, but you still have a more informed idea of what the animal (or other item) is like.

Red herrings

Beware of asking too many questions that your junior player may not be sure of. They may well know what some animals eat, but not others.

You can ask the ‘Does it eat meat?’ question, receive a certain reply, and be taken on a very roundabout route before you discover that the animal they were thinking of does in fact eat meat after all.

Numbers of legs is usually OK, as are questions about whether an animal can swim/fly etc.

Keeping on track

I find that it helps if I repeat the clues I’ve gained as I go along – it helps me, at any rate!

‘So…it lives in the water, it doesn’t have fins, it’s green…is it a frog?’

You would normally be lucky to get it that fast.  It’s not 20 questions for nothing.  (In fact, we don’t usually limit the number of questions, in practice – if Junior Player is still on board, still guessing, we keep going.)

Mineral – the wild card

Mineral includes anything that’s not animal or vegetable, so it’s a pretty big category.  We do play on this at times, but the questions shift e.g.

‘Does it have wheels?’ ‘Is it made of metal?’ etc. Vehicles tend to be easier to think about – but the questions to tell them apart can go on for a while.

Timing

Timing is everything with junior players.  Having a game that will extend, when they like it, or stop when they don’t, can help keep them on board better.

So be aware of what helps.  The main fun for a child is keeping an adult guessing – they’ll probably be happy to keep going on this (though you may tire after a while, particularly if the animal in question does NOT have 4 legs).

However, they may tire of asking lots of questions, and getting it wrong. If they’re into lots of ‘Is it this animal? Is it that animal?’ questions, a judicious use of Clues is in order.

If either of you is getting closer to meltdown, a Big Clue can really help wrap up the game fast – enough so that they guess right, and still want to play the game again another time.

It’s up to you whether you want to include, or exclude, fictional or TV characters – I think we’ve generally gone ‘real world’, but you could have some fun with characters too.

Given children’s love of questions, and the opportunity to help them form questions other than ‘why?’, you may find your audience is more willing than you might suspect.

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This is fun for a while, but when the grownup’s knees give in, or you just fancy a comfy seat, settle for games on a tray. I can manage to play games for longer if we can both sit on the sofa, with a tray between us.

The other plus point with this approach is that you don’t then need to clear the table before having a meal, which can sometimes be as tiring as prolonged game playing at floor level.
(I know whereof I speak.)

Games on a tray can be as quick, or as drawn out, as you like. Ideal for wet weather, post lunch slump, or indeed any time when you don’t really know what to do next.

Choose your tray

Your choice of tray will affect what you can play.  We have a couple of options: a circular tray with a small lip, and a large rectangular tray with high sides.

The rectangular tray tends to get taken out the most for games on the sofa (and it works for jigsaws too, up to a certain size).  High sides make it easier for bashing games (more below).

What the tray is made out of also makes a difference.  My parents have a large metal tray which suits larger jigsaws – but is also excellent for sliding large quantities of marbles around on.

(Junior player loves this, but occasionally has to be halted when the ensuing swell of sound gets too loud for grownups to talk over.)

Circular tray

If you have small toy cars, this kind of tray is great for zooming cars round.  Anything that suits rolling round – marbles again, counters, and so on.

Junior players may like to pick up the tray and swirl it themselves, a bit like the motions for panning for gold.

This technique does tend to lead to whatever it is shooting off at right angles, after a while, but as long as you can Maintain Sitting On The Sofa, and get them to pick the item(s) up, this is OK.

Rectangular tray

This is best for games where you need two ends.  Think football with pingpong balls, coins which you push – anything where you try to get your item up to the opponent’s end and score.

Our tray has a handle at each end, which means you can on occasion pick it up, and tip it to keep your item moving back towards your opponent’s end of the tray.

Beware the point when the tray rises up too much or where you end up having the same kind of contest, but standing up. (This defeats the point of tray games, which is of course to sit on the sofa.)

When you’ve had enough of that, try pretending that you’re playing space invaders.  One person keeps moving their counter back and forward, making space invader noises – the other tries to get a ball past the ‘invader’ and into the opponent’s goal.

You can also have fun blowing counters with straws, or blowing little cardboard boats with straws.

Items on trays

Most things will work – but beware them being too many, or too tiny, or there’ll be too much to pick up.  Something fairly light like pingpong balls are ideal – little rubber balls can be fun, but can also hit harder at speed.

You can use items from other games, like counters – or see what is sitting out, like small coins, Lego minifigs, and so on.

My junior player loves inventing games – and equally loves games that involve movement – so games on a tray works well.

As the grownup, if you can manage (and control) the potential for small items to be launched off the tray – and remain sitting down for as long as possible – bonus points to you!

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A bagatelle board, picked up at an auction, back when my parents were keen to go to little local auctions as a way of picking up a few bits of furniture cheaply.

We had a lot of fun playing it, when I was a child, and it’s still working its magic on subsequent generations.

The board

It may help to think of this as an early pinball machine.  In fact, there are pins, or rather nails, marking scores, and at times forming circles for the balls to go in.

The balls are actually ball bearings – so half the fun is the noise they make when you hit them.  And to hit them, you have a wooden stick to push them up a side track on the board, and out into the scoring area.

(You can of course hit the balls, very hard, one after another, merely for the fun of the sound they make.  Often, this is as much fun as actually scoring points.)

There is a half-arch of wood along the bottom of the board – this means that you can store it with the balls covered up, and I have a feeling that the wooden stick fits in there too.

Scoring

There are little indentations for the balls to land in, with numbers marked in beside them. Because you have a good number of balls – 12, I think – you can get quite high scores.

You get more for landing on the indentations than going into the circles, mainly because it’s harder to get the ball to stay in an indentation. If I remember rightly, the top individual score is about 500, so lots of counting opportunities (if you, or junior players, want them).

For an easy count up, you can just see how many balls land in an area where you score – and how many fall to the bottom of the board.  Or you can look to see what the highest scoring individual area was.

But, to be honest, it’s all about the sounds: the click of the ball bearings against each other, the bashing sound when you hit a ball up and round, the slighter click when a ball comes to rest in a circle area.

No batteries.  No rules, barring that of not hogging the board for too long.  Occasional dusting required. Memory making: guaranteed.

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I mean a set of little wooden tiles that you can do pretty much anything with.  A further train journey item. (Lest it be thought that we spend all our time on trains – we really don’t. But one journey, even of an hour, can use a few games.)

Dominoes: building with them

Junior Player’s main interest in dominoes has been to build with them. Houses, walls, piles of tiles, you name it, it’s been built. I think some of the fascination is in the clink of the dominoes as you put them together.

Playing on a train can sometimes wreak havoc with the best-laid structure, if there’s too much swaying from side to side.  At least it’s usually soon remedied – rebuilt or modified.

Sometimes you need to watch for the tiles going off the table and under the seats.  Our main set is two dominoes down because of this kind of situation.  But if you are playing for building, that is less of a hardship – you still have plenty of tiles.

Dominoes: building in the box

When you want a change (or you’ve had enough of the tiles going off the table), you can always use the box to build in as well – whether it’s lining the box all the way round with tiles, balancing the box on piles of tiles…or whatever strikes Junior Player as a good idea.

Separately, it can also be a way of seeing how to get all the tiles back in the box.  (However, you may sometimes find Junior Player has a difference of opinion about how to stack them, even when presented with the evidence.)

Dominoes: knocking them down

You can of course build small domino runs, if you want, particularly if you have a larger train table to yourselves.

Junior players may find it harder to gauge how close to put the bricks together to make a domino run for themselves.  But they sure know what to do if Daddy has built one and they get half a chance to knock it down…

Dominoes: matching the colours

Your travelling companion may or may not want to play the game as it’s conventionally played.  But you can usually get away with a bit of colour matching of tiles (even if there is scrupulous avoidance of any counting).

You could also play this a bit like a matching game: take it in turns to turn over two tiles. If you can get them to match (ie same colours), you keep the pair; otherwise, you put them back.  Winner is the one with the most tiles.

Dominoes: will last a whole journey

This may depend on the junior player you’re travelling with, but I have known a whole hour-long train journey to be spent with the box of dominoes. And given that At No Time is the game played conventionally, I tend to think that’s pretty good.

We have pulled back a bit from dominoes, given the rise of interest in TopTrumps, but perhaps it’s a good time to try actually playing the game…

Dominoes: the real deal

I have memories of playing dominoes with my granny (mum’s mum).  I liked the way you could line up your tiles and stare across at your opponent – at least, we would tend to do this bit.

I suspect she knew a lot more about how to play it tactically, and was making it easier for me on occasion, but still, it was fun to play.

Equally, I always liked the bit where you couldn’t go, with the tiles you had, and had to knock on the table to show that.

I also liked the point where you decided to change the run of the tiles, and made them go round a corner, or when you had a double tile to play, and laid it cross-ways.

Perhaps it’s time to try again with introducing the game – and see whether missing two pieces hinders us or not. But perhaps it’s best to start that at home, and see how we get on.

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Crazy Chefs is made by Orchard Toys, so it’s educational, yes, but it’s also lots of fun.  As the favourite game of another family we’re friends with, we were delighted when they gave us a set – and it became a favourite of ours too.

It’s a little bigger to pack than a TopTrumps set, but it’s still worth it.  You can play with just 2 players, or go up to 5 – and (always useful when with junior players) it’s quick. Ideal.

Aim of the game

The aim is to collect ingredients which will let you make a particular dish.  The game comes with 5 base boards, each with a dish prepared by a different chef.

Each base board has a picture of the finished item (illustrated style), and, around it, the various ingredients needed for it.

To whet your appetite, these include kebabs, cupcakes, a prawn noodle dish…and also shepherd’s pie. (I’ll need to work out which one I’ve forgotten…)

The ingredient pictures also include some utensils, like fish slice, whisk, bun cases and so on – for lots of good kitchen identification.

How to play

Each player chooses a base board. All the ingredient and utensil square tiles are placed face down, and you take it in turns to turn one over.  If it’s on your board, you put it over the appropriate space on the board.  If not, you turn it back over, and the next player has a go.

If you’re playing as a two, and the tile is on the other player’s board but not yours, we usually just hand the tile over, and have another go. If you turn over tiles for dishes that aren’t included on your base boards, we tend to drop those back into the box – again it speeds things up a bit.

For those whose inner educationalist lurks near the surface, you can also name the items as the tiles are turned over.  (This may be overkill for some – or fun for others who like to hear Junior Player say ‘mange tout’.)

Spin to win

Once you have all the ingredient and utensil tiles you need for your base board, you build up the final dish.

The remaining tiles in the box are plates (roughly oval in shape) and finished dishes (a variety of shapes, depending on the dish). Once one player is getting close to completing their base board, we usually lay out these extra tiles.

Doing this separately means you don’t need as much space for playing (which is useful if you are being scrupulous about not taking up a whole table, if you’re on the train.) It also signals a shift in the game – from memorisation of tiles to a chance element.

The game includes a spinner – firstly you want to spin to get a plate (plate picture), then you spin to get the finished dish (dish picture). There are also a couple of interim pictures on the spinner where the diners are waiting to eat.

Spinning styles vary, of course.  Junior Player tends to like very big spins – which sometimes means that it takes a long time to get the plate or dish. I prefer shorter spins, which can increase your chances of getting the category you want.

Who wins?

Even if one player can be ahead on the ingredients tiles, it’s all to play for at the spinner stage.  Quite frequently, the one trailing a bit in the first stage often gets what they need at the spinner stage.

Sometimes this needs a bit of mood management, if Junior Player has just missed out.  But overall, the food element of the game tends to keep smiles in places – though it may also provoke rumblings in tummies if it’s been a while since you last ate.

So pack Crazy Chefs for your next train journey – and maybe a snack or too, in case the rumbles get too much.

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1) I-Spy: the original

I-Spy is about observing – but it’s also about spelling:

I spy with my little eye something beginning with …(name of letter)

The other player(s) then look round the room/train compartment/bus interior etc to try and see things beginning with that letter.

B…could be balloon (at a party), boy (on a neighbouring seat of the bus), buggy (at the front of the bus), bag (on the seat beside you), and so on.

If you guess right first, you get to choose the item for the next round. Play for a short, or long time – whatever you prefer, or however long you are in transit/having to wait/letting your meal go down etc.

2) I-Spy variant: sounds not names of letters

For junior players, who are doing sounds but not yet the names of letters, play on sounds. Many words will begin with consonants, which tend to keep to the same sound.

However, if you get a sound beginning with ‘s’, the junior player can focus on the sound, rather than worry whether it starts with ‘s’ (sticker) or another letter (city).

3) I-Spy variant: play on colours

A version that can work for your junior player, if they are pre-letters, is to play on colours:

I spy with my little eye something that is…(colour).

This can be quite varied – something that is blue on a bus might be the back of a seat, a person’s coat, the suitcase on the rack, and so on. The child’s ability to pick something interesting can be fun for them, allowing them to cheerfully say ‘No!” to your first few choices.

4) I-Spy: some tips

If you are playing on the move, there’s nothing worse than continued guessing, only to be given the answer for an item that’s now half a mile behind you.

So we’ve gone for a similar rule to Hunt the Thimble – it needs to be visible, and within the room/vehicle, so that you still have time to guess.

5) I-Hear: guessing the origins of sounds

For a bit of variety, or if the people you’re playing with don’t all have the same level of sight, you can also play on sounds:

I hear with my little ear something that is…

It’s up to you how you take it from here. Adjectives can be good: something that is crackly/something that is whistle-y/something that is very quiet.  The guessers then have to identify the person/animal/object that’s making the noise.

The trick is to avoid giving too many clues that will mean the others guess too easily.

6) Playing on multiple words

Sometimes someone wants to identify their item, and it has more than one word:

…something beginning with…P S (pink suitcase)

You can decide if you allow for multiple words or not – it can be more exact, but it can also be harder to guess on.

I leave you with a (true) cautionary tale on multiple word I-Spy. A small person once came up with B O S as their clue.  The adults scratched their heads over this, tried various options and gave up.

The answer? Beast On Sarah a.k.a. a butterfly brooch worn by one of the ladies in the room. I’m not sure whether the wearer was entirely pleased to hear her brooch described as a beast.

If you’re going to play with kids, be prepared for some clues that are harder to figure out. Just saying.

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TopTrumps has become a bit of a favourite, even for game-players who are late to the party. There are so many types, but they’re not expensive. Four or five pounds will buy you a set – but visit a second-hand shop or a school fair, and you may gain a set for a pound, or even less.

TopTrumps: the choices

For kids, you can be as current, or specific, as you like.  Cars, pets, films, TV shows, cartoon characters…you’ll find all these and more.  There are usually Specials, for sets that tie in with something current, like a film.

For adults, there’s also some nostalgia value. No need to be limited to the kids’ era, when there’s sets for (original) Star Wars, Dr Who, Indiana Jones, and more.

Yes, a certain level of geek awareness probably helps. But there’s also packs with animals, the Royal Wedding of 2009, wrestling…

But what are they, your great-aunt may enquire (if she’s in the same room while you’re playing)?

TopTrumps: the explanation

TopTrumps is a set of playing cards around a theme. There are 30 to a pack. They have the picture for the theme on the back, and on the front, a series of different characters/vehicles/animals etc.

Each character card has (usually) 5 different scores on it.  These may include things like: brains, skill, strength, age, speed, and so on.  Each character will then be assigned a number for each category e.g.

Brains: 20

Skill: 5

Strength: 7

Age: 120

Speed: 12

And so on. As in real life, one character may be better than the other (or ‘trump’ them) if compared on a particular category – but lose if compared on another.

TopTrumps particularly appeals to those who like to compare, and to work out which card is best.  It’s no surprise that it started with vehicles, but most themes will be based around the idea that characters have varying strengths.

The trick is to work out which of your categories you think you are strongest on: and to play that category on the turns when you get to go first.

TopTrumps: under way

Let’s say you’ve got the above scores on your card.  Age looks pretty big, so you play on that. Your opponent has to play on the same category: so if you call age first, they have to give their score on the same category.

A: Age: 120.

B: Age: 75.

A wins – so B has to hand over their card. You put the two used cards at the back of the pack, and your opponent gets to call the category on their next card.

B: Speed: 20.

A: Speed: 12.

B wins, and takes A’s card.

TopTrumps: practising numbers by stealth

The fun of TopTrumps, for an adult playing with a child, is two-fold.  The child is playing on a theme they (hopefully) like, and wants to win.  The adult may feel the same.  But for the adult’s inner educationalist, there’s a further plus point: you both have to read out numbers to take part.

The numbers are also a clue as to whether your child is reading their numbers correctly.  If your range on speed goes up to about 20, and your child suddenly reads off ’91’, it’s a little clue to suggest that they might be misreading ’19’.

TopTrumps: playing a simplified version

To make things easiest for your junior opponent, you may choose to play just on one category.  This can be good if you are playing with e.g. dinosaur cards, where ages of millions of years may be hard to read, but strength (up to 20) is manageable.

Reading also comes into this. So it can be good to choose a category that your child can read e.g. skill. Or you might pick the category at the top of the card (or bottom), so it’s easy to spot each time.

Ideally, you play until one person has all the cards. But if you’ve had enough, you can always stop and count up who’s got the most cards. (30 to a pack – so if you have more than 15, you win.)

TopTrumps: playing over time

Where TopTrumps gets particularly fun is when you play it over time.  You get to know the possible scores for a category, so you know wen you’re likely to win.

For example, playing Horrible Histories TopTrumps, I know that Henry VIII wins on one category – so it’s worth leading with that, particularly if you are losing. Equally, playing original Star Wars TopTrumps, and playing on height, you’re doing well if you have the Wampa.

TopTrumps: our favourites

What packs do we play the most?

– Original Star Wars (films IV-VI) is a good one (and highly educational, if you are of a science-fiction persuasion, and think your child may benefit from similar knowledge).

– Dinosaurs: lots of further discussions about carnivores vs herbivores, as well as opportunities to cry ‘Urgh!’ every time you see the picture of the T Rex with a rather bloody mouth.

– Dr Who: similarly educational for classic monsters, and former incarnations of Dr Who. Our junior opponent is not yet into current series Dr Who, but should we explore the back catalogue, it could prove useful. (Plus there’s nothing like monsters to inspire a little light comparison.)

– Indiana Jones: I pulled rank when we found these in a charity shop, and demanded that we buy them.  Junior Companion was less keen to part with a whole pound out of his fund, but has since agreed that it is worth the spend.

This also becomes a way to introduce the Indiana Jones canon before Junior Companion is old enough to be allowed to watch the films. After all, there is a progression of villains for Indy to take on, and a good opportunity to compare the attributes of baddiness.

I’ll stop there.  I think I have sufficiently convinced you of the benefits. It can be played in carparks, on trains, but also in bed (if you’ve had a crafty nap, and need something low impact to entertain Junior Companion while you’re waking up).

Biggest advantages: quick to pack. Easy to close up when you’ve had enough. Fits in Christmas stockings (so we observe). Job done.

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1) Hunt the Thimble

We ended up with a plastic thimble from a Christmas cracker one time, so we do tend to play hunt the thimble. It’s of a size that it can sit on top of a door frame, ready and waiting (and spying out suitable places to hide).

One person hides the thimble – we usually count up to 10, or something similar, to give them time to hide it, but not too long. Everyone else has to close their eyes, or look away, so the hider can find a place to hide the thimble.

We’ve found that it’s best to do the following:

– agree that it must be hidden in the same room as everyone else (or you can’t see it)

– make sure it’s relatively in plain sight (no hiding it behind a cushion)

This gives the finders a sporting chance!

The finders guess a location, and can also get up and move around, looking.

The hider stays still and indicates how close you are. The fun generally comes in the description of hot (close) or cold (far away) e.g.

hot…hotter…burning…on fire! (ie. you’re pretty much on top of the item)

cold…colder…ice cold…freezing…etc.

If you are playing with a younger hider, you also have to help them be consistent about hot/cold signals. (You can be near an item, hear ‘hot’ – but then move a fraction away and hear ‘freezing’…)

Younger hiders like the sense of control, and keeping the adults guessing. Adult hiders can enjoy accurately guiding a child to the thimble, and their enjoyment of actually finding it.  Best to tailor it to the needs of your group.

When to play? Straight after a meal can be good – when the grown ups want to sit down and digest, and when the younger players want something to do.

2) Variant: hide another object of your choice

If you feel confident enough about hiding a treasured item (e.g. a Lego minifigure, or something of that kind), this can be fun. Animal figures can allow for hunting/stalking, especially those like dinosaur figures.

A human figure can be in different terrain (land/sea/forest/desert etc), which can allow for some verbal clues too if the finders get stuck.

Any figure you might be using as an alien can be exploring your planet e.g.

What is it doing?

It’s tasting brown grass… (the fibre of a carpet)

It’s scaling a tall building… (to one side of a piece of furniture)

It’s looking for intelligent life forms… (in the fruit bowl) etc.

Have you had any hunt the object successes? Or disasters?

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1) Scissors-Paper-Stone. Another familiar favourite. Whether you know it by this name, or as Rock-Paper-Scissors, it’s a classic face-off between two players.

Each player uses one hand, and hides it behind their hand. You both form a shape with your hidden hand. You count, ‘one, two, three’, and on ‘three’, you both bring out and show your hand.

You have the choice of the three shapes: rock (a fist), paper (flat hand) or scissors (thumb and forefinger apart, to suggest the blades of the scissors).

You’ll no doubt remember that the combinations of the two offer certain wins/losses:

Rock blunts scissors (rock wins)

Paper wraps rock (paper wins)

Scissors cut paper (scissors win)

If you both bring out the same shape, it’s a draw.

Here’s where the wits come in – you don’t know what your opponent will come up with. It might be the same as last time – it might be different.

This is a great game for flexibility – you can play it as many, or few, times as you like.  Best of 10 can be good – but it can keep going for longer if you want to.

It is an excellent game for bus journeys, if you are sitting together in a seat for two. It also works just fine on trains. I dare say it would be good for kids in the back of a car too.

I’ve recently discovered that it is great for a spot of sneak maths: getting used to keeping score e.g.

1 all.

1: 2.

1: 3.

2: 3. And so on.

2) Variant: Scissors-Paper-Stone-Dynamite.

I don’t know the origins of this one – maybe Dan can advise. But it can be fun to add in a fourth alternative shape to the hand:

Dynamite – ball your hand into a fist, but leave the index finger sticking out to look like a fuse.

Here are some of the new wins/losses:

Dynamite blows up stone (dynamite wins)

Scissors cut fuse off dynamite (scissors win)

Dynamite burns through paper (dynamite wins)

Plus all the above wins/losses. Kids particular like being able to blow up their opponent’s hand…as it were.

3) Variant: Madagascar version…

This was offered as an alternative, after a trip to the cinema (and a bus ride straight after). It’s not fully worked out, but you can give it a whirl, and see what you think.

The notion is to use the 4 positions of variant 2, but using the 4 main characters from the Madagascar films: a lion, a hippo, a giraffe and a zebra. Here are the hand positions:

Lion: make your hand look like a claw.

Hippo: make your hand into a fist. (The hippo is a tough cookie!)

Giraffe: put two fingers held up together, like a tall neck.

Zebra: four fingers held down, to look like stripes.

Who beats whom is the bit we’re still working on:

Lion beats everyone but Hippo, because he’s strongest

Hippo beats Lion (because she can sit on him)

Giraffe beats Hippo (because she often gives in and helps him with what he needs)

We’re still working out the zebra role.

Given that it works well for three or four characters, I’m sure there must be variations within a universe of your choice:

Orc – Elf- Dwarf – Goblin?

Let us know how you get on.

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1) The classic is Hand Sandwich. One person puts one hand on a flat surface: the table on a train, your knee, whatever is to hand. The next person puts one hand on top.  If you’ve got more than one person, they go next.

When you’ve got everyone involved, you all then put the other hand on top, in the same order as for the first hand. Once all those hands are stacked up, then you really get going.

The first person slides their hand out from the bottom, and puts it on top.  Then the next person. Then the next. And so on.

All this sounds a bit tame – so let’s just say that the fun is to go as fast as you can. The game ends at some point when all the hands are going faster than you can stack them (which can mean a bit of light hand slapping, if you choose).

2) Hand Sandwich: Going Up in the World

This is a variant we’ve come up with while on trains around London. You build up the stack, but allow your hand to move up at each new addition, so that the hands go up into the air.

Then you rebuild downwards ie reposition your hand directly below the lowest one.  It’s surprisingly hard to do – but quite fun as a shift part way through, if you sense your small companion is getting bored. (It also allows for a certain level of collapse onto the chosen surface, which can be fun if you’ve had enough.)

3) Hand Sandwich: Add the Filling

This is quite a new one, but allows for hands + words. You do the same as in the first version, but each time you verbally add a new ‘ingredient’.

Usually the first person starts with ‘bread’ (or whatever you want your ingredients to go int0) e.g.

Bread…

Ham…

Cheese…

Ketchup…

Fried egg…

Custard…

And so on. This is fun for food awareness – as well as grossing your opponents out. You can try to preempt an end to the game (‘bread’ for the top layer), or you can allow for multiple carb layers, and make it a club sandwich.

Younger players may choose to pretend to eat the stack of hands – or wipe pretend ketchup on their opponents – or however you choose to end.

I’m sure you could probably come up with some other versions of your layers.
Any suggestions?

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Playing with words may not feel like playing a game – and in a sense, it’s not. But wordplay is still entertainment, and useful in all those places where games would come in handy. Buses. Trains. Doctor’s waiting rooms.

Playing with words is rewarding for anyone who likes a game that requires you to be inventive. It encourages a good vocabulary (or perhaps more accurately, allows for smugness if you already do. But then most games do also allow for a measure of smugness, so it doesn’t get excluded just because of that). I’ll limit it to a couple of games:

1) The word game of my youth is The Minister’s Cat. I’m sure it goes by other names too, but the notion is that you work through the alphabet, in turn. (A certain amount of leeway is usually given if you have to do ‘X’ on your turn: eXciting, eXuberant.)

The usual way of playing is with adjectives:

The Minister’s Cat is a….(use an adjective beginning with A) cat.

e.g. The Minister’s Cat is an active cat.

You then take it in turns to come up with other equivalents where the adjective starts with A. (If the group is big, that allows for a good range – but it can still be fun even with just two.)

The plus point of playing with a few people is that it gives you time to come up with your next go:

The Minister’s Cat is a bumptious cat. And so on.

This one works fine for a medium-length car journey – but it might do just as well on another shared task where you are all together, and need a little entertainment.  Chopping lots of veg? Doing some pre-Christmas making? Those kind of situations.

Variations:

Work with a theme, and keep going through the alphabet:

Food: The Minister’s Cat eats asparagus…

International places: The Minister’s Cat lives in Amsterdam…

(or do a place names for the country you live in e.g. The Minister’s Cat lives in Anstruther…)

And so on. I’m sure you could work your way around sports teams, too…

(The Minister’s Cat plays for AC Milan??)

Helping out:

If you are playing with younger team mates, grown-ups are allowed to pile in and help if kids are struggling for a suitable word for that letter. I’m sure you could equally play this in teams, and if one team can’t answer, you could offer it up as a bonus point for the other team.

2) My mother went shopping…

This is probably the classic title, but why limit it to mums? Or, indeed, to conventional shopping items?

This is really a memory game, where choosing unusual words/items can be a real help to remembering them. Each person repeats the whole thing from the beginning, and adds on another item:

My alien went shopping and it bought…

…a lump of smelly cheese

…a turbo booster for its space craft

…a bag of googly eyes…

This can be great if you are travelling, or in a room with lots of items, because it gives you lots of ideas for new shopping items, as well as visual prompts to remember the whole list.

Helping out: you might award a certain number of reminders, for junior players; or offer up a point to someone else if they can offer the prompt.

What other word games would you play on the move – or anywhere else? And which ones do you find offer the most entertainment? Add a comment, and offer your top tips!

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Except that I’m not in the mood yet. To do a month of travel posts, you really need pictures to go with them. And I’m not there yet either (or the pictures that I need to go with the posts are in The Room Full Of Stuff).

So I thought I’d go for something different – lighter, perhaps, than last month’s eco audit. So here it is: games. Because all of a sudden, I’ve ended up with a category about it – so I might as well write some more.

I’ve written before that games and I don’t have the best of relationships. Some people manage to like games, some people manage to win at games, and some are Poor Losers.  I was in the last of these groups.

Games can be hard as a child. Yes, games of all sorts can be preparation for life – but no one said you have to like losing. Present a perfectionist child with an opportunity to lose, and they will find themselves in the place of sore loser pretty quickly, because it’s all too personal.

So why write about games now? Because the shoe is on the other foot. I am now in the position of trying to encourage perspective about winning and losing with my younger opponent. And I don’t now care so much if I win – I care about spending time together, and doing something fun.

I have a friend who is a keen game player.  (He pretty much always wins too, which can encourage a pro-games stance.) But he is also understanding about playing with those who don’t really get game playing, but will submit to it from time to time.

I’m not setting out to critique games, as he might. (There are any number of websites out there that do that, too.) But I am here to suggest that, should you be a reluctant game-player, here are some games that might not be too much like hard work.

They are going to be included because I have played them – and survived. Even, enjoyed the experience. They are therefore ones I’ll play again – might even suggest as an activity. (See how far the Sore Loser has come!)

I’m making sure that there’s a good number that are also free, or need little equipment, in case you fancy having a go, but don’t really want to part with cash to do so.

Eyes down. Game on.

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One of the great gifts my parents gave me was to take us somewhere in the country for our summer holidays.  Not quite off-grid, in modern parlance, but sometimes, that too, if there was a storm and a power cut.

If you have a family bolt hole to go to, that doesn’t cost you to use, then of course you use it.  Even if it’s several hundred miles from home, involving two or three ferries, and lugging most of your food with you.  Perhaps especially because of all that.

I’ve written before on holidays to Jura, and I will no doubt keep writing about it.  I have a theory that Jura ensnares the first in each generation in particular.  My dad has it; I have it.  His brothers, mine – they’ve been, they know it it, but they don’t seem to go as crazy for it.

Perhaps it’s that second child thing – more sociable, more gregarious, and more likely to notice that somewhere is wild and a bit remote. The oldest child, perhaps more influenced by parents, tends to pick up on their thing, not always that of their own generation.

Staying in a cottage (latterly one that is well equipped) isn’t roughing it.  I appreciate that.  We did have a go at camping as a family – a couple of goes, actually – but we used existing camping sites, and still felt it wasn’t quite us.

The more important issue, though, is going on holiday and not necessarily expecting all mod cons.  When we went to the original cottage on Jura, there was no TV.  The cottage was small, really one bedroom which I had to share with my brother, and the sitting room, which included the not very comfortable sofa bed where my parents slept.

So you were either all in one room – which of course happened as soon as there was lots of rain – or outside. Which was just as well, because the point of being somewhere so beautiful is that you really want to be outside.  (Except when the midges are out.)

Nowadays, it’s what people pay good money for – isolation.  They may well want to be somewhere where their phone doesn’t work; where there’s no internet access (and maybe also no squabbling over gaming privileges).

And what do you do in such places? You go for walks.  You get wet.  You come home again and eat your way through lots of cake.  You play board games.  You sulk when you lose. Your parents remember to leave the door unlocked again (at least partly to avoid seeming like the total incomer.)

You play at the beach as often as you can, building sand castles, attempting to dam the little burn that runs out across the beach and into the sea. You go out in the dinghy, and learn to row.  You learn to fish on a small line off the back of the boat – at night, if you’re really lucky (and if your mum has packed enough chocolate digestives).

You do I-Spy books and collect points for spotting seals, sea otters, different types of deer. You build driftwood boats out of whatever wood you find on the shore, and an old potato bag.  You make smaller boats out of reeds along the shore, and sail them off the jetty.

You do the grand day trip to the next island – and go for walks there.    You go to the bookshop and buy more books because you have already read all the books you’ve brought AND any extra books that have been sent in the obligatory parcel which has to be sent to you while you’re there.

When I think about it, it sounds remarkably like what I was trying to sum up in a recent post, on making your own entertainment.  And in some ways, in my childhood certainly, it probably wasn’t so different from day to day life anyway.

What I’ve noticed through so many of these posts is that when there’s not much money, it’s actually easier to be a bit more eco.  Time as a student reacquaints you with this, as can time as a parent.

But in the background, expectations move on.  Society demands that your holiday bolthole come with internet access.  That you still get a power shower.  And in some ways, I know why camping wasn’t the family thing – because when you finally get a holiday, you might just want a bit of comfort.

We are trying, for our part, to offer some of the same in our own family.  To go to Jura, and to another cottage, nearer to hand but still reasonably in the wilds.  Where the days spent at the beach are still the highlights, where jigsaw puzzles get a bit more attention, and where you wake up the wee one to show them the night sky without pollution.

The environment is there.  We just have to slow down enough to remember it.  And, on holiday, we might just manage it.

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In my teens, it was books and music – and TV at points.  The obligatory Friday night long soak in the bath.  But it was also sitting round the table together over meals – laughing, chatting, and so on.

When I went to Poland, it shifted a bit more.  We didn’t have a TV – and we wouldn’t have been able to understand that much if we did.  So we listened to music; wrote to people and enjoyed receiving letters.  We went and visited the kids in the boarding houses at the school where I was working.

We went sledging at night.  We climbed a long way up a hill to reach a famous lake that the kids couldn’t see (because they were blind) – and that was frozen.  We went to church.  We took lots of photos (all on film, at that point). We went to judo classes with the kids. I sang in the choir.

We travelled about – by train, by bus.  We went for walks – we did a midnight row on the lake during a summer camp.  Because it was Poland, there seemed plenty of people ready to bring out a guitar at the hint of a bonfire, or another opportunity to sing.

I loved it.  And funnily, university wasn’t that different.  When there’s not much money, you spend your time with people.

When I shared a flat with two friends, we clubbed together and bought a second hand piano – that was in fact entertainment for us, and for others.  Sometimes we would invite musician friends over – they would play, we would cook, and we’d all eat together.

My teenage self would be familiar with some electricity-based entertainment.  I wouldn’t have dreamed of the rise of ‘devices’: laptops, iPods, phones doing so many different things.  Nor of the plethora of chargers needing packed for holidays.

What happens when you have a little money? Sometimes it goes on power-based entertainment: films, concerts, shows.  But in amid all that, there are still the freebies: going for walks, being with friends, reading to each other.

There is something to be said for making your own entertainment.  It can be challenging to tread that path as a parent: to show the current generation growing up that entertainment without a power cable can be worth it.

But parenthood, with its associated reduced levels of cash, also means a rediscovery of free or lower impact entertainment.  Walks. Playgrounds.  Riding a bike.  Creating stories and tall tales. Talking about the world, how it works, how it doesn’t.

Running round and round with a pot of bubble mixture.  Inventing your own imaginary worlds.  Playing I spy, and a hundred other verbal games. Reading, reading, going to the library for a new stock of books, more reading aloud.  Making your own models.

Not everything that is ‘free’ is low impact.  But the things you can use multiple times, without cables – books, games, quality toys – and then pass on again to others: these are worth our time, as well as our investment.

And they give us some pointers to what life can be like when making your own entertainment – with creativity, and with enjoyment.

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Now I tend to be a time on my own girl. That’s how I recharge. So quite a lot of the box of delights contents so far have been solo ones. But today’s one is about being together – on the times that it works. Where we connect, where we share a moment, if you will.

When everyone’s weeks have been different, it can be hard sometimes to work out how to be together again. You need time to be running at the same pace again. So part of the trick tends to be the things that have worked before, that we know how to do together, so we can focus on enjoying being together.

What do we choose? Top Trumps works well. A favourite on train journeys, we’ve been gradually adding to our stock. You know you’ve been playing for a while where you can guess what others have, purely from the scores they say. The current favourite is Indiana Jones Top Trumps.

Mythbusters is part of the Saturday morning experience. I’m not always part of it, but with a positive round of Top Trumps under the belt, we’re already in synch. I may be sitting in the background, typing away, but we’re all enjoying it. Discovery channel, if you need to know.

Mythbusters can of course be viewed at other times in the week, but it particularly lends itself to Saturday mornings. A little light explosion, a helping of scientific principles, and some comedic voice-over work. Add coffee, a comfy seat, and shared expressions of incredulity at particularly large explosions, and you’re away.

TV aside, the next step is lunch all together. Hard to achieve in the week, it’s a lovely part of the slowdown process. Thinking brunch is a good way to go, and/or comfort recipes. Pancakes. Quesadillas. Big bowls of soup. Variants on bacon and eggs. Not needing too much thought, but still great for taste – and great for the experience of shared meal.

What comes next? I don’t know. It may be together, it may be separately. But we’ve had a combined recharge. It’s a good place to begin.

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Before this all starts sounding too ‘multiple personality’, we all do it – because we all fit into each others’ lives in different ways.   I’ve sat in on those team build-y type exercises where you have to describe who you are – and often it’s in terms of labels, many we give ourselves and some we let others give us.

Back to online: I was expecting a few more pseudonyms in some of the Facebook applications, particularly the ones which allow you to beat up people who have (probably unwisely) agreed to be your friend.  Given that a lot of superheroes do have alternative names, I decided to be Superfrau for the purposes of the game.  (Superfrau has a real life aspect too: it’s written on a small soft toy key ring I was given by the German interviewer of the students I send abroad.)

Sadly, only one other person I knew picked out an alter ego, although there are plenty of others out there on Facebook who are perfectly happy with their pseudonyms, mostly nicked from the TV show Heroes (which seems fair enough, as the game I play is based on that premise).  But it got me thinking about which of our alter egos we keep as we go on in life.

When I was 19, I did the gap year thing, went to Poland for half a year.  And yes, it was the life-changing experience that gap years are heralded to be – in loads of different ways.

I hadn’t expected to, but I linked myself with Poland.  It influenced how I decorated my room at university, how I cooked, the kind of music I listened to.  It had a major impact on how I viewed things like hospitality, and other positives I wanted to emulate, when back in the UK.

Part of this was also what I told others about myself.  For some time, any connection with Poland – even if it wasn’t the exotic gap year that some had had – seemed unusual for a UK citizen with no family ties there.  I enjoyed a perspective that was European, but a different kind of Europe.

Now, over 15 years since I first went there, I find myself identifying myself less with Poland.  It’s not that the significance has faded.  But Poland is less part of my life than it was.  My point is, it is unlikely to regain that position it had – because I have moved on too.  Other identities have entered my life, many of which get lived more on a daily basis than the Polish aspects I hung onto.

So what?  Life today offers vast amounts of change, choice, alternatives.  Perhaps I put more stock in particular identities because I don’t have the consistency of belonging that some do.  I don’t come from one particular place – though Edinburgh does offer the best option, having been home for a good number of years.

There are other identities that we gradually realise have been passed on to others.  Mid thirties, the desire to change the world quite so much, the capacity for large amounts of caffeine, these seem to have slipped quietly out the room, probably when I was doing something significant like hanging up washing.

Perhaps what I’m struggling towards is a notion of letting go of some aspects of who I’ve been – but not feeling diminished in the process.  Quite enjoying a little more space – equally, not rushing to fill it. Meanwhile, can I recommend Captain Fantastico for your day to day superhero requirements?

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Following Dan’s brainwave for a present for his cousin, who at a tender age has embraced the excitement that is Star Wars, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get a set for ourselves too.

So it was lovingly unwrapped and put to use yesterday, having a social for our church small group yesterday.  We knew that one of the others was well set for board games, having seen her in action on our June holiday, but were waiting to see what happened for the other group member…who promptly walked off as the highroller of the evening.

Despite my more recent move to gameplaying interest, I feel I should give you an overview of what it’s like.  You get nice little figures as pieces to move round the board, ie familiar characters from the films.

Dan noticed that there are five goodies to three baddies, but then I think that’s as it should be, really.  You also get currency in credits (I think), rather than pounds, and instead of building houses or hotels, you build colonies (small space ship pieces), working up to star ports (larger space ships – in this case, a Millenium Falcon).

You also get to swap the familiar destinations of London for Star Wars ones.  It doesn’t take a lot of thinking through to agree that Yoda’s swamp is the least attractive (or rather, cheapest) location on the board, with the heart of the Empire, Coruscant, as the most expensive.

A few elements of the board could have been jazzed up a little, in line with the theme – why not go to a penal colony, rather than jail?  Or use a star ship motif, rather than a car, in Free Parking?

But aside from this, there is of course great opportunity to a) listen to Star Wars soundtracks while playing (check), b) swap Star Wars viewing stories (check), c) make noises like the characters when doing well or thwarted (no we didn’t do this, but I’m sure it should be mandatory from now on), etc.

And of course, you can mortgage all your properties, all too swiftly, in keeping with this year’s financial theme, sadly.  But if you lose, hey, it’s all in a galaxy far far away…

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Unattracted as I was, equally, to other people being openly competitive, there wasn’t much reason to start again.  Except this year, for some reason I have wanted to play board games.

I still don’t know why it should be.  Perhaps it helps that some of the board games available now are more interesting than the ones I played as a child.

(I still hold a torch for Mine-A-Million, which allowed you to build up oil reserves, and ship them to the other side of the world.  But what with global warming, and pirates taking over oil tankers, I don’t think that one’s going to come back into fasion.)

I’m talking about games like Carcassonne and Settlers of Catan.  And I rather like Ticket to Ride, particularly the European version where I can distract others from my losing by being smug and saying “been there!” on some of the more obscure routes.

Games which are different every time, in terms of how you make up the board, keep me interested – and take the sting out of losing, or at least of not winning.

We have some friends who are good on the board game front, and introduced us to both Settlers and Mahjong, though we clearly need to build up more practice on games in between visits.  But the real shift was going on holiday with our regular group of friends from church, in June, and playing board games most nights.  And liking it.

When you are a child, winning and losing is a much bigger deal, and having siblings to taunt you, or parents to point out that you are a bad loser, tends to distract you from even trying to put a brave face on it.

A couple of decades down the line, and you’ve realised that there are many ways to win and lose in daily life, and so a brief stint at a board game is perhaps easier to take on.

In the case of our trip in June, it perhaps helped to be there with a very competitive friend, who you knew would win (almost) all the games anyway.

This took the actually trying to win part out of the equation, leaving you focus on banter, admiration of nice design of board game, an additional glass of wine, and so on. (Obviously, if wine had been in the equation as a child, who know how many people would have stopped being bad losers much earlier?)

But I think the real reason for it is a desire to be with people.  To do something together that you can remember, but that isn’t that big and important either, so you can focus on the people too.

Perhaps the addition of a nice fire, or bad weather, or large amounts of chocolate etc, add to the picture of it being a very positive thing to stay indoors and be with people you like.

And for that, I can even risk the possibility that some competition might come into the equation.

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Blame spring cleaning, early summer cleaning, oh there’s another cold snap, cleaning and general furniture shifting.  But, for a change, blame holiday…where we deliberately kept off-line.

Actually, this gets easier if you go somewhere which doesn’t have internet access.  Scottish island, family cottage owned by great aunt (who is also a great-aunt) who isn’t online but keeps very busy in other ways, thankyou.  Even though the island has a public access internet point, we managed to keep away.

This isn’t so hard: holidays are about doing things you don’t get time to do (or don’t get round to): watching films, reading books, eating porridge.  Even playing Scrabble and drinking tea from pots (not directly, you understand, mugs were still involved).

It’s also about doing things that you don’t get access to at home: watching red deer from the back window of the cottage, watching storms (and strong moonlight) from the front.

Going to the beach when it isn’t really spring yet, and having the place to yourself.  Leaning out of the front door (which is conveniently a stable door that you open the top half of), surveying the morning’s activities – of other people.

There was even drama surrounding getting home yesterday – a call before 8am to say that we would need to make a 10.30 ferry if we wanted to get off the island that day.  A wait to see if the second ferry would divert to the other side of island 2 because of rough seas, as it had the previous day – which would have meant quick moves to a bus across to the other port. Harder to achieve when you’re foot passengers, and the bus doesn’t go that often.

Thankfully going home by coach, though time-consuming, also meant we avoided having to drive in slushy conditions.  Say what you want about Scottish summers, these factors are not part of our more usual visits to this island home from home.

Yes, we missed out on a genuine opportunity to be stranded away from work.  It was quite tempting, actually.  But we gained a story to tell, and some further kindness from those based on islands, who understand how easily plans, including travel plans, may have to change if the weather does.

This time next week, I’ll be preparing for travel with work.  But for now, I’m holding on to the sophistications of cooking my breakfast, looking out of the window…and rejoining our book collection at home.

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It probably doesn’t sound terribly healthy.  But the Facebook option – aka Petrolhead – does mean that you have a few big advantages to trying to do these things in real life:

a) no cost of car – in any way

b) change your mind and switch to another car in the same kind of group – apparently at whim, but certainly with no car dealer involved

c) no petrol, no pollution, no driver tiredness either, as you’re only allowed ten races every day

d) you can’t cut out road rage and general obnoxiousness in driving, but at least you are not personally directing it at others.  Perhaps the fact that many people race their peers makes it easier to be good.  (Or maybe not.  Competition can be sweeter when you know who you’re beating.)

e) yes, your car choice still says something about you.  But it can be a more interesting car, or one you would never hope to own, but like the look of.  I was quite chuffed to ‘drive’ the Morgan Aero, new car in the Morgan range, having previously lived up the road from the Morgan factory.

(If you don’t know about Morgans, look them up.  You may need to get on the waiting list now.  There’s another six years to wait meanwhile, but that’s plenty of time to get your Facebook rankings up.)

Sensible mid-life crisis is in fact one of the categories of car, as you make your way up.  I’ve moved on from sensible, but am not in the flagrant ‘couldn’t care less’ category of the Millionaires Club, which Dan has reached.

Meanwhile Eric is racing happily too – in as yellow a vehicle as he can find each time.  Happy days.

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