Party, party party . . .

Golly, out again last night. Will this madness never end?

We were invited to Chris and Anna's. Jeremy had done most of the arranging on this one, so I only had to follow instructions, though I did buy the flowers. Julia turned up to look after the little'uns, and we left. The other two guests had already arrived, and Anna explained to us the basis of the evening. She told us that Brian had made the starter, she and Chris had made the main meal . . . at this point my heart stopped. What had Jeremy omitted to tell me! We weren't supposed to provide pudding, were we? Oh no! Clearly the bunch of flowers we had brought was not going to go very far around six! Even it you did put cream on, and add a slice of bread each! Jeremy was destined for a terrible death, probably before we even sat down to dinner.

To my enormous relief, no, Gill had made the pudding. Our roles were strictly confined to being guests. A duty we discharged admirably well, might I add. Well, someone has to.

Dinner was delicious - watercress soup, trout with avocado and pistachio, and rhubarb brulee. The company was engaging, and it was midnight before we even knew it.

Guesting - we could do that again.

It also occurred to us that that was the second time we had left the children for someone else to put to bed. This is HUGE. Imagine choosing a sensible movie time! Imagine not missing the first half of a quiz night! Imagine getting to wherever we need to be before 8:45!

I'm dizzy just thinking about it.