Ah, chess. How I have missed you.

Today at school we were forced into doing recreational activities. This was a little unnerving at first, but the concept grew on me. Especially when a friend of mine devised a board game club.

Now, I had already signed up for an activity - creative writing. But here's the thing. The recreation wotsit took place during the last two periods, so that those people with a lesson during one recreational period could sign up for the other. This is a good idea. I, incidentally, have two free periods on Wednesday afternoon, so I could pick when to do the creative writing. I chose the last period, period 5, because the not inconsiderable distance between my school and my home means that I can't really leave early as my school bus is the only way home for me, and I could use period 4, which would still be occupied by loads of people, as a free period.

Creative writing, by the way, was splendid. It was lovely and laid back, but without the distractions that are all too common at home. This meant that I got a lot of writing done. My fellow creative writers are all splendid people, too. There's the lovely Ling, who is a wonderful person to have on any team; the mildly insane but oddly endearing John, who didn't do a lot of writing but chose to help me with my writing (which was nice of him); Eleanor, who I don't really know too well but seems intellectual enough to be an excellent colleague; and Rory, for whom any attempt at a successful description would be futile (in a good way). Quite the motley crew, I'm sure you'll agree.

I expected no less, and was duly distraught when I realised there was a board game club. Will I have to turn down creative writing, or turn down Mr Ross Milnes, who wanted to play chess with me? Fortunately, I didn't have to do either - I just used my free period 4 to play board games, before embarking down the corridor to do a spot of writing. Lovely.

Now, I go back to the point of this blog entry now. I used to love playing chess. I still do, but I used to both love it and actively participate in games. As of late, the active element has drifted away from my routine, and I'm a lesser person for it. No activity stimulates my mental processes quite like a good game of chess, and it turns out that Ross is an excellent player.
I didn't end up playing him, by the way. Somehow, we ended up teaming together and taking on two other friends of ours in a chess game. Now, this didn't work all the time, as we tried to take it in turns, and it meant that any drawn-out strategy could be swiftly undone by a rash manoeuvre by your colleague. But we got into the swing of things eventually, and it all became rather competitive. I was really rather elated by the whole experience, as this was what I used to love about chess - the levels of intensity it can reach - and that hour of semi-compulsory recreation re-kindled that passion.

I will certainly be playing chess more often. It really sets you up for a good long writing session.

Deep joy.