Monday 26 September 2011

My Secret

I don't like parties. my own, that is. So invite me to yours as often as you like, but don't be surprised to see me scuttling around in a flap if invited over for tea/gin/little toasts with stuff balanced on them anytime soon.

I love to cook for folk, don't get me wrong, and with my career behind me I am more than familiar with the process of acquiring, mixing and presenting a refeshing beverage. I just get performance anxiety..Are the cousins mixing well with the friends? Are the babies well catered for/safe/not poisoned? Is the music too eclectic? Did I top up the loo roll with the Value or the Quilted Emperor-Wipe?

Most of all I dislike haveing to portion my attention out equally and I do place a mathematical preciseness around this, not wanting to slight any group by under-mingling. Of course with a sloe gin, a muffin, and a bucket of rose inside them none of them give an owls hoot whether or not I came over to tell them I am getting a Gudrun and Gudrun dress for my birthday, but still.

Thanks friends for coming to my party and double thanks to those who said it was good. I can't take praise, I refuse to believe I got it right, and I'm sticking with that. Madwoman.