We tried out a new game today: Bocce Ball. Dave has insisted that we stay off our little patch of green to give the grass a chance to recover from living in our arid climate. I am begrudgingly accommodating the request. Tending to green grass makes me feel like a middle aged man, not to mention that grass likes water, of which there is very little out here. Bocce, as it turns out, is perfect for our long dirt driveway, drawing us far away from the little lawn we love and loathe. It brings back memories of playing petanque with old men drinking pastis and eating peanuts in rural France. A great way to pass an afternoon. No pastis here, but we’re having just as much fun.
We aren’t all on board with the game. Guthrie likes to chase and run with the pallino, the little ball that serves as the focal point of the game. When it moves very fast while held in little hands…well, the game just can’t proceed under those conditions. This irks E-man to no end. It makes me laugh.
E-man understands the object of the game, and as you can see, he takes it quite seriously. I hope he doesn’t like Bocce more than mopping!