Sunday, 24 December 2017
Are you a party person?
Depending on your personality, you have been longing for or dreading this time of year: office parties, Christmas with the family and the silliness of New Year's Eve. The recent blog, on the joy of snow, had as the thought for the day 'Never ever underestimate the importance of having fun'.
The snow reminded me that it wrecked our 55th wedding anniversary. Our 63rd was on the 19th December – I thought 'pointless celebration, my husband still knows I am his wife, but blames me for "getting rid of him" into a care home. But there they are all 'party people', birthdays celebrated with a gather round, cake and a sing-song. Mr G not keen on latter, but I'm half the marriage, so made a big variety of little cakes popular over many decades, staff were pleased.
I think our 48th anniversary was in Madras (Chennai). Decorated chairs with gold bows, red roses for me and a disgusting cake. The Taj group keep records, and realised we had a golden wedding coming up. They suggested we fly a load of friends and family out, with the inducement that the hotel was always set up for Bollywood movies, and our party could be part of one! As it happened, a daughter said 'Party is on us (in UK) but I needed to take 50 year history of photos of business, travel and family. A tall order – resulted in displays which pleased everybody and an album of 'composites'. The cake, made by me, was totally OTT.
When we left our second house, we thought that if you had a house warming party why not a house cooling? So we told the kids and the au pair to invite their friends. Coming downstairs, I greeted 'guests' and asked whose friends they were. Nobody, they'd just heard there was a good party! There were 28 for breakfast the next morning, the removal men arrived, took one look and started the other end of the house (it had 17 rooms, we could not afford to live in it). My oldest friend, very acerbic, phoned for news. 'We've just had a super party' (14th July, I think). 'Oh, you two, you'd have a party if you cut your fingernails'.
When the son who is 60 next week was 6 he wanted a party – for 30 littles boys. Riot wasn't in it – we used the village hall, not going to wreck the house. They fought, they went up one side of the stage and down the other, they illustrated the meaning of a 'bun fight', Then, being polite little boys they left, panting, saying 'We've never had so much fun in our lives'. (Back to thought for the day).
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