Conkers

Dearest Birdie

With our daily need to vacate the RV, if not for any other reason than to aid in the reduction of foggy damp windows (it's that or stop breathing!), we decided to pay a visit to the Lieutenant Governor. Sunday was raining but mild and we thought the Queens rep would appreciate a visit from her Majesties British subjects. Turns out no-one was home for tea, so we contented ourselves with a stroll through the grounds. Now mid October is not the best time for what I'm sure are stunning displays of vibrant blooms, but the walk was pleasant and we saw many a deer. Just as we were heading back to the car we came across little treasures strewn across the pathway. Conkers! I don't know if this is just a British school yard game but memories came flooding back of many a battle in Junior school. Conkers polished, strings taught and always a suspicious eye ready to accuse a winning conker of clandestine cheats.

Conker's are the seed of the horse-chestnut tree and the game is played by drilling a hole through your conker and attaching a string. Two people face off, striking each others conker until one breaks. A conker that can beat another in a single blow was known as a 'oner' and it's owner would very proudly boast of his conkers abilities! Of course cheating was rampant with tricks such as boiling your conker in vinegar or the more obvious painting it with clear varnish to toughen it's shell. Such a simple game gave generations of school children hours of fun and industry. The boy was fascinated with our stories of triumph and failure and we wondered if Conkers would be popular in schools today should anyone think to bring it back. The boy quickly reminded us that a game like this would probably be banned on school grounds today, to violent or something! The worst injury I can think of was a sharp pain when your opponents Conker missed and you were hit squarely on the knuckles, god forbid any other our children should suffer so! It makes me sad to think of these missed opportunities, I mean someone had to think of this game and it had to have come from imagination mixed with boredom, as did the tennis ball in the foot of a stocking tied around your ankle or chain tag which caused many a grazed knee. Something each and every child did indeed recover from, in fact I think the cure was to brush off the gravel (there was always gravel), spit on the wound, then continue playing. Ah we were tough little nuts back then!

The latest news story of cyber bullying, (I'm not going to comment on the details as I really don't know the full story) has me thinking about how simple things were. I'm not against technology despite the fact it seems to hate me, but I feel for our children with this constant pressure to be on, all the time. If we had a bad day at school with friends we had a sanctuary at home where for a short time we could close the door and leave it all behind for the day. Now it follows our children where ever they go and people who are not even in their inner circle are posting comments with little information (or intellect sometimes) to really be able to join the conversation. Teen's are so venerable and insecure and know it, causing the kind to suffer and the mean to cause such pain. I watched my daughter be sucked into that world, unable to leave her phone for more than a minute, unless we took it away which we used every opportunity to do so. For those short moments when she was banned from technology for some misdemeanor or other we slowly saw the sweet child we knew coming back to us, curling up on the sofa for family time, chatting at dinner, generally taking part in family life.
Ironically, now I need her to be connected as I miss her terribly and am grateful for the Internet and texting and Skype, I check Facebook and Hotmail every morning in case she needs me (okay it's more for me than her!) and can't imagine her being so far away with out them.

To the family and friends of Amanda Todd, I'm truly sorry for your loss and my thoughts are with you.
Always Yours
Sparrow