Jared
Jared

Jared

Alhambra – Board Game To Build A Palace

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Alhambra is a board game with the goal of building the best palace. Game play is fairly straight forward, the primary actions are; pickup coin, buy palace piece, or re-arrange existing palace piece. Each player has their own palace and the goal is to score the most points by having the most palace pieces of a specific designation. There are various rules about how the palace can be constructed which increase the level of complexity. The game is broke up into 2 scoring rounds with a final scoring round when all the palace pieces are in play.

Within 90 minutes we were taught the rules and had a very fulfilling first game.  By chance I did win but I assure you that has no bearing on my appreciation for the game *wink*. My only complaint is that it was perhaps too isolated between players. The only direct interaction between players in the game is when players are deciding what palace pieces to buy.

The game reminds me of Cleopatra and the Society of Architects but with less confusion.

200911282109_083In attendance was AM (game leader), RT, CT, and me.  It didn’t take long to grasp the finer points of palace construction but unfortunately the first game resulted in several gee-I-won’t-build-like-that-again moments. CT scored big in the end with a wicked long wall. RT was well rounded but stuck with several unusable pieces at the end of the game. AM had a fierce palace with some intricate but useless internal palace walls that tripped him up.  My green pieces and modest outside wall were decent scoring each round.

It lacks the fierce competition of a game like risk or the fun frivolous player interactions between turns but it is a decent family game worth playing.

Protected: Poems From My Innermost…

I Want to Die While You Love Me by Georgia Douglas Johnson

I WANT to die while you love me,
While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips
And lights are in my hair.

I want to die while you love me,
And bear to that still bed,
Your kisses turbulent, unspent
To warm me when I’m dead.

I want to die while you love me
Oh, who would care to live
Till love has nothing more to ask
And nothing more to give!

I want to die while you love me
And never, never see
The glory of this perfect day
Grow dim or cease to be.

True Love by Wislawa Szymborska

This poem struck my attention because I wondered if it was written by an engineer – or at least someone who is a pragmatist at heart. Depending on your view of true love you might be inclined to think it comical – especially the last several stanzas.

True love. Is it normal
is it serious, is it practical?
What does the world get from two people
who exist in a world of their own?

Placed on the same pedestal for no good reason,
drawn randomly from millions but convinced
it had to happen this way – in reward for what?
For nothing.
The light descends from nowhere.
Why on these two and not on others?
Doesn’t this outrage justice? Yes it does.
Doesn’t it disrupt our painstakingly erected principles,
and cast the moral from the peak? Yes on both accounts.

Look at the happy couple.
Couldn’t they at least try to hide it,
fake a little depression for their friends’ sake?
Listen to them laughing – its an insult.
The language they use – deceptively clear.
And their little celebrations, rituals,
the elaborate mutual routines –
it’s obviously a plot behind the human race’s back!

It’s hard even to guess how far things might go
if people start to follow their example.
What could religion and poetry count on?
What would be remembered? What renounced?
Who’d want to stay within bounds?

True love. Is it really necessary?
Tact and common sense tell us to pass over it in silence,
like a scandal in Life’s highest circles.
Perfectly good children are born without its help.
It couldn’t populate the planet in a million years,
it comes along so rarely.

Let the people who never find true love
keep saying that there’s no such thing.

Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

-Wislawa Szymborska

If you enjoyed this poem you might want to read a little bit about the author’s Wikipedia page. Her background information and poem quoted above caught my interest. I must read some of her other poems.

A Late Walk by Robert Frost

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

In November when the leaves wither, the flowers fall, and the grass turns brown everything is but a faded image of brilliant summer glory.  The Thanksgiving Season leaves wonderful memories but a feeling of longing; what is, what was, could have been, to do once more…

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.

-Robert Frost