We used to go on these holidays to Wales - we borrowed a cottage off of some family friends. It was small and damp and full of spiders and we loved it. The best thing about the cottage was that it had a barn. And in that barn there was a rope. We spent endless summers swinging on that rope. Me and my brothers. We would jump off the ledges or the hay bales and swing on the rope. Or pretend to be Pirates and swing on the rope. Or just swing on the rope. Never did we think we were wasting our time or that we could be doing something more constructive. We just swung on a rope. And sometimes sat in the collection of old baths that all barns seem to have and watched the rope swing.
One summer we went back and the rope had gone. The farmer who owned the cottage was trying to stop people going as he wanted to sell up. So he got rid of the rope. And he was right. Once the rope was gone, we didn't really like going. We spent all year long looking forward to that bit of rope. We had computers and toys and hobbies and treats but really, all we wanted was that piece of rope.
I don't enjoy playing board games. Mostly as they are rarely played - they are fought and won or lost. But I will always have a soft spot for a piece of rope. Because there isn't much you can do with it, but play.
Improvised human woman.