It’s February—love month. Now is as good a time as any to make my personal confession about love-turned-obsession.

Fine. You’ll see the results of my labor of love on p. 104. I bid a bittersweet goodbye to Norman, Ingo, Mark, George and the rest. You are gods among men. I don’t regret one moment, but it’s over. Well, after I make this one quick run over to Royal Scoop. Those last two taste tests were totally inconclusive.

It’s said that to get rid of an addiction one must acquire another. I’m thinking croquet. Hear me out on this. Golf never did a thing for me: way too big a time investment, incredibly ugly clothes, and both ball and club head ridiculously small. Conversely, have you ever seen the size of a croquet ball? The head of a mallet? Far more civilized. And speaking of civilized, my dear, one could go to the queen’s tea party in proper croquet attire. Any color is fine, as long as it’s white. I picture myself in a little gauzy something, cinched waist, gracefully draped skirts ever so lightly brushing the ground as I glide across the emerald lawn, parasol in one hand and a mint julep in the other, while my attendant carries the mallet to the next wicket. My partner: F. Scott Fitzgerald in white linen and rakish straw hat. A charming half hour of tinkling laughter and pleasant talk of the evening’s party ahead.

For the past decade and a half, I’ve heard about that elite annual gathering of world-class croquet players on Useppa Island, eight miles north of Captiva. Useppa and its grand Old Florida beach mansions and shabby-chic sportsman’s club are mysterious and exotic enough; add croquet and five days of lawn parties, oh my! The 18th annual two-island tournament, with a flotilla of boats transporting the 40 or so players between Useppa and nearby Gasparilla Island, is Feb. 14–18.

Slightly younger at 13 years, and perhaps a bit more polished, is Audubon Country Club’s croquet invitational tournament, coming up Feb. 20–25. It involves elaborate breakfasts and buffets and a Tuscan feast. There are still a few slots left. All I have to do is join the USCA, establish a handicap, assemble a different white ensemble for each day, and pay my $320. I should probably practice a bit, too.

So when Bill Everett, president of the Naples Croquet and Lawn Bowling Club, suggests I take one of the complimentary lessons at their greensward (croquet lawn to the un-initiated), I’m ready. With all due respect about the lessons, I received my first croquet set for my eighth birthday. Knock a ball through a few wire hoops—how hard can it be? As you may recall, even Alice (of Wonderland) won a game of croquet against the "off-with-her-head" Queen of Hearts using an upside-down flamingo and a pair of hedgehogs.

Saturday morning i show up in my whites at the greensward, a surprising little patch of croquet lawn—greener and closer-cropped than a golf green—encircled by a picket fence covered in flowering vines and a white gazebo, too. It’s all tucked behind the Etudes de Ballet dance school off Pine Ridge Road in Naples. Who knew?

Bill is there, and club vice president Bill Skinner, and a couple of semi-experienced players "having a knockabout" while they wait for their lessons. The wickets are all set up, but wait; there are only six of them, not nine. My first introduction to USCA rules, and there are plenty more. No putting your foot on your ball to anchor it while you whack your opponent’s into the next county. There are stop shots and pass rolls and bisques and roquets. Triple peels and diagonal sweeps. I like the feel of the mallet in my grip, and the day, though windy, is gorgeous. And on my very first shot I actually put the ball in generally the right place. Suddenly my ball is dead on red. Oops? No, it turns out that this is a good thing. I now have to hit my blue ball and make it go to the right, and make the red ball it’s touching roll 45 degrees to the left. Which is not possible.

"Just apply the basic principles of physics," says Skinner.

Physics??

In any case, I’ve managed to get within two feet of my target wicket. That’s a good thing, for sure, right? Nope, I now have to hit it out of bounds, over there in the woods. Uh. I see. "Think of it as a game of chess," says Everett, "… think strategy."

Okay, that’s it. Physics … chess … I’m out.

But wait, the Bills say. Most people pick up the basics very quickly, even if the serious stuff takes years to master. The best candidates are type A people (you have to let everything else go while you focus on the game) and Buddhists (who already know how to let everything go and live in the moment). As for me, what time is high tea?

I still hope to attend the championship finals at Audubon on Sunday afternoon, Feb. 25 (You can, too; call [239] 592-1347). And on Wednesday afternoons this spring I may pop in at the Naples Greensward for some true beginner’s lessons (they’re free with advance reservation, 3285 Pine Ridge Road; [239] 207-2735; Jonathan Burt, owner). They start you off on "golf croquet," which bears a strong resemblance to my eight-year-old backyard game. It has fewer rules, it moves faster, and there’s absolutely no chess or physics involved. Oh, and in serious croquet, says Janet Balson, vice president of the Audubon Croquet Club, ladies no longer wear long white dresses. Pity.

Anyway, here’s to a glorious February, the most perfect month of the year in Southwest Florida. Here’s to love and chocolate and triple scoops of ice cream. Here’s to croquet and flamingoes and hedgehogs, and, oh what the heck—obsession.

Till next time, savor the moment.