26th Officially We Need a New Temporary Unofficial Event Name... Event!!

🎄🎲 BOARD GAME NIGHT XXVI — THE DECORATIONS ARE DOWN, THE DAMAGE REMAINS 🎲🎄

The Holidays have officially ended.

The lights are boxed.
The ornaments are gone.
The last of the festive cookies sit in a container no one trusts anymore.

And yet…
the table still hums.

The holidays came and went in a blur of tinsel-adjacent chaos, seasonal optimism, and strategic decisions made far too close to baked goods. Cards were shuffled with cheer. Dice were rolled with hope. And somewhere between “just one more round” and “is that still edible?” the spirit of the season did what it always does — it quietly left us with the consequences.

Now, in the quiet aftermath, we return.

No carols.
No countdown.
Just familiar faces, questionable rules recall, and the unmistakable sense that whatever balance the holiday break briefly restored has already begun to slip.

The year has turned.
The table has not.
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🪵🪶 THE AFTERMATH OF XXV — EGGS TO EMPIRES 🪶🪵

What began as a reasonable gathering immediately split into two realities, both unstable in their own way.

At one table, Richard, Jon P, Brad, Casey, and Duncan took flight with Wingspan, a game whose peaceful presentation has fooled more people than any box art in history. Birds were introduced with care. Habitats filled. There was a brief, dangerous sense that everything was under control at Ducks Unlimited Red Deer. Smiles quickly faded as the sanctuaries started spiraling out of control. The table oscillated between polite appreciation and sudden bursts of disbelief as card chains triggered, eggs multiplied, and someone realized (far too late) that a serene bird sanctuary had become a point-generating monstrosity. There was calm, yes… but it was the dangerous kind. The sort of peace that feels fine until someone realizes this ecosystem could absolutely supply a McNugget-sized disaster.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, Stone Age unfolded exactly as it always does, badly.

Myself, Jeff, and Sasha entered prehistory armed with optimism and left it emotionally older. Dice dictated survival. Food was always one turn away from disaster. Tools were gathered with great pride and immediately misused. And while Jeff flirted with balance and I pursued something resembling a plan, Sasha — playing for the first time — discovered the true cornerstone of civilization almost instantly: The Love Hut.

No hesitation. No moral debate.

He leaned into it with commitment and alarming confidence, expanding his tribe with ease while the rest of us debated agriculture, starvation, and whether optimism is just denial with better branding. The Love Hut, already carved into our Stone Age canon, once again proved itself the most efficient structure humanity has ever produced. Civilizations rose. Villagers multiplied. And to be clear self-control never entered the discussion.

By the end of the night, the divide was clear:
One table nurtured calm, interconnected habitats.
The other chose reproduction over planning.
And Stone Age — as always — reminded us that progress is optional, but consequences are not.
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🐦🦴 FROM BIRDS TO BONES — AND BACK AGAIN 🦴🐦

And so, having proven that we can both delicately curate bird sanctuaries and accidentally repopulate the human race in under an hour, the table prepares for its next mistake.

BOARD GAME NIGHT XXVI approaches with the confidence of people who have just seen exactly what happens and somehow remain optimistic. Will we gently build something beautiful? Will we abandon planning in favor of short-term population gains? Will someone insist this time food won’t be an issue?

There is only one way to find out and history suggests we will not choose correctly.
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🎲 WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW 🎲

🎉 New Players Welcome - First time at the table? No problem. Bird abilities will be explained patiently, and no one will judge you for building something beautiful that scores nothing.
🎯 Game Selection - Games are chosen by group consensus, vague planning, and whoever puts a box on the table first while saying, “This one’s actually not that bad.”
🎮 Got a Favorite Game? - Bring it and pitch it like a rare bird sighting. Colorful description encouraged, actual understanding optional.
🎭 Dress Code - Casual. Caveman chic welcome. Furs, hoodies, and anything comfortable enough to survive repeated poor decisions are acceptable.
🍇 Etiquette - Nest respectfully. No crowding, no poaching, and absolutely no commentary on how someone else is laying eggs.
⚠️ Warning - Failure to properly plan for food may result in starvation, penalties, or insisting “it’ll be fine next round.” It will not be fine.
📜 Fun Fact - The most dangerous birds are the quiet ones that activate six other cards and force everyone else to do math.
🧂 Table Talk - If words fail, grunt louder. This has never helped, but we respect the attempt.

— Your Organizer, Shocked by Both the Math and the Birth Rate

📜 SINCE OUR LAST MEETUP… 📜

🕰️ Multiple events occurred in rapid succession over the holidays, creating the illusion that time is moving faster when you keep scheduling things you enjoy.
🥤 Brad remains under investigation for “mocha doping,” though the committee admits the evidence is delicious.
🧠 Several players claim lessons were learned over the holidays. These claims remain unverified.
🦊 Paty’s last known location: a taco restaurant, a suitcase, and the unmistakable aura of someone who knows too much.
📬 The “TURN BACK” envelope was last seen under a coaster, which is somehow more ominous than on the table.
🐦 Richard was noticed watching a bird land at Bower Ponds and remarking that it “handled the corner well.”