Sunday, 1 March 2015

Now If I See Another Vol Au Vent......

Photo; Rainer Zenz
The measure of a good party has changed substantially over the years.   When I was little it was graded on the quality of the party bag, the little collection of goodies handed over after the end of all that game playing nonsense. A balloon and a piece of raspberry sponge just wasn't acceptable.   Later on in adolescence and young adulthood, availability of alcohol and whether there'd been an opportunity to engage in snogging  came  into the equation. Nowadays my requirements are much simpler and is based on a) whether I can have a good dance and/or b) a right old natter with interesting and funny people who might be aged from eight to eighty.

Last night's party for e-Laura's 50th was a wonderful chatty kind of gathering which resumed again this morning with breakfast at a local hotel.  Top marks go to her mum who produced a pot containing gall stones recently removed from her husband's abdomen just after I've finished my bacon and egg.  Mrs O, for this sheer audacity  that even surpasses the surprises that I throw myself, I salute you!

A wombling wander didn't come into the equation as planned.  We'll have to save that for our next visit because I happened to utter the words that any stressed host loves to hear.  'Can I help?' Well, that  certainly opened the floodgates.  For the next three hours my time was taken up masterminding the heating of nine hundred canapes in an oven that wouldn't stay at temperature and manhandling them into  1970s hostess trolleys bought for the purpose from Ebay for the princely sum of a fiver. Not sure how I pulled off what was seen as a minor miracle.  I'll save the bragging  for a few days though  until I'm sure that I haven't caused a massive salmonella outbreak.


  1. Replies
    1. Oh yes! We all had a brilliant time. I lost touch with Laura for a few years. What made this special was it was the first time that she and her family, whom I'm very fond of, met Louis. x