Why Rickety Kate?
“No one knows what is on the other side of a playing card.”
— Jose Fernandez
My family were very big on card games, before our family tragedy occurred in 1982.
My Dad taught me to play Patience in 1975, in a tent, while we were sitting out the tail end of a tropical cyclone at Cape Tribulation. In between hands, my parents and I would try to hold the tent up and push out the buckets of water that were accumulating in the roof.
Over the years I learned more and more games. Card games were the major activity at night time on our extremely numerous camping trips. I started with the very simple family-orientated games up through Euchre, 500, Rickety Kate and eventually, Crib. If I won a hand, my Dad’s favourite joke was that it was time for me to go to bed.
My Mother died suddenly in 1982 when I was fourteen. Family life as I knew it was never the same. Gone were the card games and family camping trips. Gone was meaningful communication between my Father and the precocious, grieving teenager that I was.
Card games came into my life occasionally afterwards. In my second job out of school, in the Public Service, we played 4-handed Euchre every lunchtime, and it was very, very competitive. I shared a house with some friends at the end of the 80s and Canasta and Coon Can were an almost nightly pastime. In the 90s my ex-husband and I had occasional card nights with friends.We had an almighty row on our honeymoon in Upstate New York playing cards with my penfriend and her partner when he accused me of reneging. Perhaps we never recovered from that.
Rickety Kate is the card you don’t want to have. I am her.