Your writing prompt this week is
CLUB
When I was a little girl I belonged to the Curly Wurly Club – I remember receiving stickers and all sorts of things which I treasured for years. For those of you who don’t know what a Curly Wurly is, I’ve seen it described as ‘a swirly ladder of golden caramel, draped in Cadbury milk chocolate’. It was yummy!
So you may have belonged to various clubs/organizations over the years. Maybe you still belong to one or two.
Or maybe you were left out of one – one you always longed to be in.
‘A club’ can mean a nightclub, a golfclub or a wooden stick/bat used as a weapon. What does this word mean to you?
Fact or fiction, prose or poetry, I would love to read your thoughts on this week’s prompt, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt CARDS.
A Useless Whine
The front end doesn’t work today.
The rear end doesn’t either.
The middle’s not an end at all,
no matter where the wild cards fall,
so nothing now works neither
(except my mouth).
Memories flooded my brain as the smoke from the flickering candle enveloped me. The hint of menthol cigarettes lingering in the air only amplified my déjà vu. My cowardice urged me to turn and run, but before my feet could obey this frantic command the sight of the Two of Swords reminded me of the weight of the choice ahead of me. I couldn’t let one bad incident stop me from seeking guidance. Maybe if I had listened that time, instead of mocking, I would have taken a different road, so instead of taking flight, I sank into the chair. Holding my question in my mind, I shuffled the cards and made a promise to myself: this time, I would listen, really really listen.
Postcards from Spirit
We would all like to think
That our loved ones
Can still communicate with us.
Perhaps if we channel our creative
And positive thoughts, we can accept
Guidance from Spirit Oracle cards?
Snippets, postcards of expressed love –
One woman’ s interpretation to gift us
However vague, answers.
My first foray, my sifting of the words;
“Acknowledge others efforts, be open,
Be gentle… adjust.”
My second foray; “Step into the unknown,
Have courage as your ally, and dance –
(Even with my two left feet?)
suggestions
see light in darkness
doors’ ajar
“The cards have spoken.”
“What did they say?”
“You’re cut off.”
“Cut off? How can that be?”
“The spirits are no longer interested.”
“Why?”
“You keep ignoring their wisdom.”
“That’s not true.”
“You were told to stay home.”
“I work.”
“And what happened at work.”
“I got fired in a reorganization.”
“So the cards were right.”
“They would have called me at home.”
“You sure?”
“Tell ’em I will listen.”
“Too late. That’ll be five dollars.”
Rall:
it still sits on the fridge door
your lovely christmas card
from two years ago
you were the only one
who ever posted one to us
we miss you
I’ve had two card making sessions this week, and could have used my previous post today for Esther’s prompt, but I hadn’t checked my reader before I posted it.
I get a lot of pleasure making them, not just for anniversaries, birthdays or Christmas (and a couple of wedding ones)
but to send to friends who are not on the internet and a ‘Hello’ card when it hits the mat always goes down well.
I got hooked after a demo at a ladies group I belonged to and Hubby let me loose in one of the craft stores in Lincoln where I spent over £60 on materials.
A fellow member of the group spent more than I did elsewhere, buying embossers and other gadgetry as well as the basics like blank cards, stickers, and double sided tape.
She soon became bored though, and I wish I’d known, as I would have bought her embosser machine.
Sometimes I write my own verse to put inside, especially if it’s for a special occasion.
One of the reasons I prefer to make my own is that I got fed up finding a lovely card with a naff verse, or a lovely verse in a naff card.
Cards were shuffled and picked up three
There were death, sun and wands of three
Said something about the future
Nothing to change except suture and read the tea
Butterflies in stomach I feel
Refused to believe I repeal
After all bees buzz and grass green
No one can really translate scene, again to deal
It Wasn’t in the Cards
Joe had planned to take his department out to lunch. His department used to be the breadwinner of the company, with over 100 employees on three shifts. With changing times, that staff has been reduced drastically to 13 people standing today.
Joe had a hankering for Chicken Parmesan and ordered that and some mozzarella sticks. When the food arrived at the end of the table where Jerry was sitting, they asked who got the chicken parm, and Jerry said he did. Jerry started eating and then realized that he actually ordered eggplant parmesan.
Meanwhile, on Joe’s end of the table, the waiter asked who gets the eggplant parm. They set one down, and then from down at the other end, Jerry yelled, “That’s me.”
Joe then asked where his chicken parmesan was, and the waiter said there was a mix-up and that he would get it soon enough.
The waiter then asked Jerry if he could give the chicken parmesan to Joe, but Jerry ate half of it and then chowed down on his eggplant. Tom looked at Jerry’s two meals and asked, “You ordered two meals?” And Jerry replied, “I ordered eggplant parmesan, but I forgot what I ordered, so I just ate the chicken parmesan.” To which Tom replied, “Oh, you ate Joe’s chicken parmesan!!!” Tom then snapped a photo of a dejected Joe who got his meal when most everyone was done.
That chicken parmesan just wasn’t in the cards.
Another Thursday night rolled around, and another weekly card game with my five poker buddies. This was, of course, back when we were all recent college graduates holding down our first real jobs and not earning that much money, so the stakes at the poker game were modest, just nickel-dime-quarter.
And not only were the stakes modest by today’s standards — typically winning or losing forty bucks at poker night were the extremes — the games were rather simple. No Texas Hold’em, no wild card games, no split the pot games like high-low. Just straight stud poker, five card or seven card.
I wasn’t having a very good night. I was probably $25 bucks in the hole, and it was getting close to the end of the night. All I needed was a few good hands to maybe break even for the night.
The dealer called seven-card stud, a classic poker game where each player is dealt seven cards — three face down and four face up — and aims to make the strongest five-card hand, using only those cards.
We each put in our 5¢ antes and the dealer started dealing the cards. My two face down cards were a jack and a 10 and my face up card was another jack. Okay, I was off to a strong start with a pair of jacks. I was third in the betting and after the first guy bet a dime, the second guy said “I’ll see your dime and bump it a quarter.”
That made the bet for me at 35¢ and feeling a little cocky with my pair of jacks, I said, “I’ll see you 35 and raise it a quarter.” That meant that each of the other three guys at the table had to put in 60¢ to stay in the game, which they did. So after the first round of betting plus the 30¢ ante, the pot stood at $3.90.
Then the second up card was dealt. I got another 10, so I already had two pairs, jacks over tens. Whoa, I was feeling heady. Betting in the second round started with a guy with a king showing. He bet a quarter. The next two guys each raised it a quarter, making my bet 75¢ to stay in. I bumped it another quarter to a dollar, and the next two guys each threw in a dollar to stay in the game. So now, after just two rounds of betting, the pot was already up to $9.90.
My third and fourth up cards were shit, but I had a jack and a ten in the hole and a jack and a ten on the table. There was only one other guy with a pair showing on the table, and that was a pair of sixes. The third and fourth rounds of betting got even rougher, with everyone staying in the game but with multiple rounds of bumping by a quarter, the pot was up to about $40 before the seventh card, a face down card, was dealt.
My face down card was a third jack. I had a fucking full house, jacks high! I knew I had a winner. On the last round of betting, two of the six players dropped out, so after the last round of betting the pot was almost $55, the biggest pot of the night, and with my full house, I was sure the pot was mine.
Do you remember the guy with the king showing who started the second round of betting at a quarter? Well, his first two face down cards were also kings. Now I honestly don’t know what the odds are that the last card he was dealt, his third face down card in the hand, would also be a king, but the odds are quite slim.
Yet on that night when I was dealt a jacks over tens full house, this other player was dealt four kings.
I was devastated.
Tarot Trauma
“Bye, love.” Mum called from the hallway.
I called back from the kitchen, where I was loading the dishwasher. Tuesday dinner was a weekly ritual from the days when the kids were still young enough to need supervising after school. Today, Mum had dropped off her terrier, Jake, to romp with our dogs while she went to a meeting of her writing group. On her return, she’d lit the oven to cook the casserole I prepared the night before.
Next out was my eldest, Chrissie, who was home from university for the holidays. She called from the hallway as I took another After Eight mint from the box Mum had brought.
“I’m off out, Mum. Don’t wait up.” I heard the door open. “Looks like you’ve got junk mail.”
I joined her at the front door as she picked up the card from the doormat and turned it over. “It isn’t an advert. It’s a tarot card.”
Ollie, her brother, appeared from the back room and took it from her
“Death?” His eyes danced. “Who-oo-hoo-ooh!”
Chrissie was shocked. “Who would post something like that through our door? I hope it isn’t a threat.”
I took the card from Ollie. “Probably one of your dozy friends playing some kind of joke.”
He disappeared upstairs without further comment, and I remembered the plastic bag with its suspect contents that I’d found in his room the week before. When challenged, Ollie insisted he didn’t know what I was talking about, which was his usual strategy when accused of anything.
I had disposed of the bag, but I now wondered if it had been Ollie’s to dispose of. Had he been keeping it for someone? I’d long suspected some of his friends to have dubious income streams.
The card in my hand looked shiny-new, not one from a worn old deck that you’d be ready to discard for the sake of a prank. I left it on the hall table.
~
I topped up my wineglass, took another After Eight and searched online for the meaning of Death on the tarot deck.
It does not, as expected, predict a death, but signifies stagnation, change, and rebirth, the end of something old and beginning of something new.
This wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been.
A restructure at work might put my job at risk. My ex wanted to reduce maintenance payments now that Chrissie was at university. Then there was Ollie…
Stagnation. Maybe I should get out more. I closed the box of After Eights.
The phone rang. It was Mum.
“Is Jake there? He isn’t here. I don’t remember putting him in the car when I left, now I come to think of it.”
We’d joked about Mum getting forgetful, but this was a first. I called his name, and my dogs appeared, but no Jake.
“Hang on. I’ll check outside.”
Ollie looked indoors, and I checked the shed. The dogs helped, almost tripping me when they dashed to a broken chair by the fence and barked.
Jake barked in reply.
I peered over the fence. “Daft dog. Why didn’t you bark before? Ollie, can you nip next door and ask if we can have our dog back?”
Mum was still waiting on the phone. “He’s here, Mum. He’d jumped next door from that old chair, but the fence is too high for him to jump back.”
“Thank goodness! I was afraid he might have run off while I was putting my bag in the car. I’ll… er… come and get him, shall I?”
I didn’t feel like turning out either.
“I’ve drunk too much wine to drive, Mum. Pick him up tomorrow. It’s my late shift this week. I won’t go in till lunchtime, and I can give him a run with mine in the morning.”
I returned to the wine I’d barely sipped as Ollie came back from next door carrying Jake.
~
Mum arrived mid-morning to pick him up. At the front door, she bent to make a fuss of him, leaving her handbag on the hall table. I went to fill the kettle.
When she collected her bag on the way out, the Tarot card was underneath.
“So that’s where it got to. I thought I’d lost it.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve taken up Tarot reading, Mum?”
“Don’t be daft.” She zipped the card into her bag. “It belongs to the group leader. This month, we picked an object from a bag to use as our story prompt, and I pulled out the card.” She bent to clip Jake’s lead onto his collar. “I forgot to put it back when I left.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t the foggiest idea how I’m going to work it into a story.”
Joe thought he knew it all
Turned out that ended up the fall
Of well known gambler who caused gall
Knowing cards all held with great recall
Alas he cheated which caused a brawl
Held his bet as all cards were sprawled
Now needs a lawyer, his jail time call.
Not Enough
i’ve laid down
my cards—
each one a piece of me,
for you to see,
to understand
what i’m capable of,
and what you’re stepping into.
but i guess
it’s still not enough.
bare, raw,
soul laid open,
yet it falls
quiet in your hands.
so tell me,
what would it take?
what would make me
enough?
In the Cards
The week had been exhausting. Morgan was dragging by Thursday night. She had spent the day taking care of Poppy’s needs. She had told me that she wouldn’t be available most of the day Thursday due to having to tolerate an hour long drive to the doctor’s office to check Poppy’s heart. Poppy had been dealt some tough cards. He had so many problems with keeping it in beat. One time we thought we would lose him, that he would never come back like my friend Bret that went to visit God. Morgan had told us Poppy was at the hospital getting better. I hope he never goes there again.
I was so happy to hear the roar of the truck that broke the peace and quiet of our country life yesterday that I accidentally put a scratch on Poppy with my nails when I jumped into his arms to express my love and give him a welcome home kiss. The smells on their clothes and skin hit my nose like a rag full of cleaning solution. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Things took a turn for the better when Morgan made grilled cheese sandwiches for Poppy as an afternoon snack. I’ve always been partial to a half a hotdog in the afternoon while Rocko, well… Rocko is the exact opposite of Mikey in the Life commercial. He’ll eat anything.
Morgan was discussing their stop at John’s house over sandwiches. Poppy and John had been friends for much longer than I have been around, way back in the olden days- 1985. They stopped to pick up some of the extra music equipment that the band didn’t need anymore, some speakers, lights, stands, and mixer board. I think it had something to do with those big round things in the music room that Poppy gets mad at and bangs with sticks as if the rapture is coming.
Poppy was telling me he wasn’t feeling very good. He didn’t actually say it but I could tell by the way he was moving so I sat on his lap for a while. That always makes him smile. He grabbed ahold of me and held me tight while Morgan explained what the Doctor said. I didn’t understand a word of it.
After dinner, we all curled up in bed to watch the moving pictures on the wall. Poppy fell asleep while Morgan stared at the ceiling. I heard her say as I drifted off to sleep “I’ve got peace and I’ve got love, but I’m up think’n I might lose it all.”
Play Your Cards Right
In the quiet shuffle, fate is dealt,
a hand of secrets no one felt.
Hearts may falter, spades may bite,
but wisdom lies in playing right.
The joker grins, the queen takes aim,
the king pretends it’s all a game.
Chance is fickle, luck is slight,
yet skill can bend the darkest night.
Fold when shadows cloud the sky,
bet when truth outshines the lie.
Patience, courage, sharp insight—
these are the rules of playing right.
Not every hand will end in gold,
not every story must be told.
But when you wager with steady sight,
you’ll find the world can turn out right.
I have lots of cards. I have the usual I.D. type cards, credit cards, medical cards, etc. I also have a library card. I have a whole bunch of library cards from different cities over the years in my scrapbook. I also have lots of old video store cards from all kinds of places over the years. Also, I’ve saved most all the greeting cards I’ve received since I was a little kid, all in scrapbooks.
Then, I was thinking about all the card games I’ve played before. I’m sure I played these at one time or another. I haven’t played any cards in a long time though, as there is no one to play them with. Well, there is Solitaire, but that gets boring after awhile.
1. Old Maid, 2. Crazy Eights, 3. War, 4. 52 Pick Up, 5. Nertz, 6. Spades, 7. Hearts, 8. Bridge, 9. pinochle, 10. Poker (lots of ways), 11. Uno, 12. Gin/Rummy, 13. 3 Deck Game, 14. Skip-bo, 15. Phase 10, 16. Canasta… and probably some I’ve forgotten about.
Then there are other games, like some board games, that use cards, and some special kinds, like Tarot reading cards, which I have some, and a name the cat one which is fun, and other ones.
Euchre
There is a card game played in the Midwest that isn’t known in every state. This card game is called Euchre, pronounced “YOO-ker”. Euchre has its own “Euchre Belt,” a group of states where the game is commonly played, which includes Indiana, Illinois, Ohio, Kentucky, Michigan and Pennsylvania. It is also played in Canada, Great Britain, New Zealand and Upstate New York. I personally introduced the game to a large group of friends in California. It is a fun game, and easy enough to learn that my grandchildren have usually picked it up by age ten.
Euchre typically has four players, consisting of two pairs of partners that sit across the table from each other. The object of the game is to take the most tricks. The deck is comprised of cards from the 9s up to the Aces, 24 cards in all. Most players use the 4 and 6 of hearts and spades as score cards, because the team that reaches 10 points first is the winner.
The dealer deals 5 cards to each player, usually dealing 3 cards at once to his opponents and 2 cards to his partner, going around the table, and then vice versa. He turns up the top card on the remaining stack of 4 cards. This card could be the trump. The player to his left has the first opportunity to call that trump, but if he passes the choice moves around the table. If someone wants that suit to be trump, they “order it up” and the dealer puts the trump card into their deck and discards a card. If no one calls that card trump, then the dealer turns that card over and the choice can then be made to call trump in any other suit. Once trump is established, the player to the left of the dealer begins the play by laying down a card, usually a high card of any suit but trump. The team that calls the trump suit must take at least 3 of the 5 tricks, if they don’t they are “Euchre’d” and the opposing team gets 2 points. If the team that calls the trump suit takes all five tricks, they get 2 points. If one of the team players has an excellent deck, he can say he is “going alone” and his partner will not play. If he takes all five tricks, his team gets 4 points, but if he only takes 3 or 4 of the 5 tricks, his team gets 1 point.
Clear as mud, right? Well, let me now tell you the craziest part about this game and what causes people to give up on this game in frustration. When spades is called trump, the Jack of Spades becomes the highest card in the deck, and the Jack of Clubs is the second highest card in the deck. These are known as “the bowers.” The Jack of the trump suit is the “Right Bower” and the Jack of the same color suit is the “Left Bower.” Then the order of importance of the cards is Ace, King, Queen, Jacks of other suits, tens and nines. So the highest cards in the deck are constantly changing. If hearts is trump, Jack of Hearts and Jack of Diamonds are the bowers. If Diamonds are trump, then Jack of Diamonds is right, Jack of Hearts is the left.
I’m not an instructional writer, and have done my best to explain the game, but if you decide to try it, please refer to instructions you can probably find online. And give it a try!
Euchre is a game where you have to try to guess what cards your partner has, and your opponents have. Your strategy is to do your best to figure out if you and your partner can take at least 3 tricks. It takes practice, but provides hours of fun. In the cold Midwestern winters, Euchre is a good way to spend time.
When I was thirteen going on fourteen, I got the grand idea of making Mom a Christmas card with contributions from each of her children. Naturally, I was the mastermind of this undertaking, and I used my pocket money to purchase cardboard, glue, glitter, crayons, and chocolates. The two large pieces of cardboard were halved, and I allotted each of us two pages to decorate. Hayley and Laura were still very little girls aged five and four, respectively. I helped them decorate their pages with prints of their hands and feet. This had to be done without Mom knowing so I covered the floor of the upstairs playroom with black plastic garbage bags and managed the painting of their small hands and feet with coloured poster paint. They then either stepped, or pressed down, on their page to make patterns. This was a lot of work for me as I also had to wash their messy hands and feet with soapy warm water to remove the excess paint and discretely get rid of the paint splashed protective bags.
I drew and coloured a Christmas tree, decorating it with cotton wool for snow, gold and silver glitter glued on in stripes, and Christmas shaped chocolates bought from a local shop. I had to walk to and from the shops, a four kilometre round trip, to acquire these goodies but when I had an idea I was always very determined to get it done regardless of the obstacles. Cath produced her own colourful Christmas scene using red and green glitter and crayons.
Our gift was well received and Mom kept it for years until it all fell apart. When my sons and my sister, Hayley’s, sons were little, we did a similar exercise with the four boys. We made two pillowcases decorated with their little hands and feet dipped in fabric paint. I used newspaper to cover the floor and remember sitting each boy in a baby bath full of warm soapy water to get them clean. Boys are ever so much messier than girls. They even had paint in their hair. My mom still has these pillowcases.
tiny hands and feet
memorialised in paint
red, yellow and blue
Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You
The hour was late. Only two players remained.
Mason had been bleeding chips all night. Cigarette locked in his jaw, his eyes pulsed between his hand and his dwindling chips, then back again. His face expressionless, but everyone knew pride was the only thing keeping him upright.
Across the table, Dalton sat easy, his fortress of chips untouched. He hadn’t lost a hand all night. His stare was stone.
Mason shoved his last stack forward. “All in.” His voice cracked.
Dalton let the silence stretch, then pushed chips to match. “Call.”
The room froze. Mason held his breath.
Dalton fanned his cards slow, leaned back, and almost playfully began to sing:
“You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you…”
Esther Chilton 
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