Now Is The Time...

I resolve to never ever again wear red suede shoes, red silk dress and feather earrings to a barbecue.
I stood out!

Our hosts were understanding when, after a two glasses of White Zinfandel, I boogied wildly under their extraordinary up and down ceiling lights. No damage was done to either the lights or me.

Foodwise they were extraordinarily generous, a veritable feast of chicken (good) spare ribs (charred) steak (excellent) and Japaneses Rice Crackers (my favourite). All presented reasonably well along with a huge selection of salads, breads and dips. Jacket potatoes were of course available too. Garlic cheese, peanuts, salsa and enormous bowl of unwanted green salad. Tasty cuisine and all from Morrison's!

After our initial 'hello's and hi ya's' we mingled in the dark.

But like with all parties everyone ended up in the kitchen, where male host was keeping on top of proceedings by dunking grubby dishes in sink of soapy water. What a man I thought. Ex-Royal Marine and as fit as a greyhound. Mrs Hostess was a fair maiden with puppy eyes and mauve toe nails, she grasped the idea of time travel but will get married in Jamaica.

I soon tired of Perfect Male Hosts housekeeping antics and slid headlong onto the dining area where cool music blasted me from wall to wall. Once I'm up I'm really up, not much concerns me when dancing. I was in the zone being closely watched by Mr H whose cool attitude made me wonder if he'd had too much coke and not enough water. But my concern for him quickly evaporated when Mr Male Host dried his hands, lowered the ceiling light and began Limbo dancing. I exploded. Had to have a go me thought and no sooner had he shuffled so did I.
Lowering my red silked body I balanced precariously. My head hanging back and my arms splayed out I gazed up at the light above and shuffled dirtily.
"And in heels too" Man host quipped.

The dancing went on and the music got louder and the guests, completely dissing the governments Units per day advice, wriggled, sang and exposed themselves by the Summer house.

Very soon, about midnight it was, as Mrs Hostess handed out shots of God knows what, the girls and boys became even more raucous and inhuman, so Mr H and I tendered our resignation and began to leave.

Kisses were planted on cheeks of course, shoulders were squeezed firmly and After Shaves were inhaled then lingering looks of a carnal nature were exchanged and that was tempting, but I am old and my knees were playing up so we bade farewell again and again and again and finally Sat Navved our way through the deep dark green moonlit roads of the Essex countryside.

I loved it.

Cooking today:
Wokking up a Chinese.