The Christmas party

On seeing the empty bottles after our annual Christmas party, friends who know me well have asked, “How many of you were there? Did you have any guests at all?”

 

Let’s just say, it went well.

 

DH and I have a quiet night in. Ho ho ho!

 

 

 

The party

It’s been a good few years coming: 13 years five homes since we got married, DH and I finally threw a party. A Christmas drinks party.

I think it was rather good.

“Mmm, these are delicious!” people exclaimed (a bit too surprised if you ask me) as I passed around trays of oven-hot canapés. “Are they homemade?”

“Of course!” I trilled, “Just not by me.”

That was probably half the success. I mean, I know I’m a Housewife, but do you think I could churn out 300 mini baked potatoes stuffed with rare roast beef, pea purée and horseradish sauce? Or even the same filled with roasted pumpkin and mint pesto? Mini milk chocolate tarts with an espresso crust? I wasn’t even going to try.

But while I didn’t create the food, I did create the evening – with the help, of course, of my talented DH who strung curtains of twinkling fairy lights all around the garden, ensured that chilled lounge music was playing at all times and placed candles all around the swimming pool.

But a party is not a success without its guests. Thanks, too, goes to my fabulous friends, who played along nicely by getting on with each other, laughing more than enough, and leaving just before I opened the very last bottle of champagne.

The morning after: guess who's off to the bottle bank