Dinner was great fun. I enjoyed all the cooking, all day, even though it was one of Wellington's sunniest days in March. I joined my sewing table to the dining table so it would seat 10 easily. I set the table extravagantly with my blue and white china collection, and lit lots of candles, the house looked good. The wine and conversation flowed, the food received lots of compliments. Dessert turned out to be a pavlova that someone brought with them, with icecream someone else brought. While we would have all loved a glass of port, I forgot to ask anyone to bring that, so we drank liquers over ice, and talked more and more into the night. I had a great time. There were enough leftovers for Sunday dinner, only just.
Funny though, a whole lot of people who hadn't been to my house before, and the men (single, unattached, I wouldn't say no.....) said the same things .... "oh, my (ex/aunt/mother/sister) does patchwork" "I see your wetsuit, do you.....???"
I'm cool with the wetsuit conversation, it hangs behind the bathroom door after all. But this patchwork thing? I am not your ex/aunt/mother.
Oh no, that's not what I want you to be thinking about me at all, at all.
Oh, and I'm a bad blogger. No photos. Not even one.