This weekend, I will be a party planner
It’s not my natural habitat, hosting parties. Any of my friends – especially my Cancer and Virgo friends who care about details – will testify that I’m actually quite rubbish at it.
But I’m an Aquarius, for goodness’ sake. All we care about is that our dearest friends come, and that they have a good time. We don’t notice details. We don’t notice that there’s no table centrepiece, and no candles; that the wine glasses are different sizes or that the crockery doesn’t match. And we don’t give a damn about the colour scheme, that the napkins are from Ikea, or that the flowers are wafting too much of the wrong scent across the garden.
Honestly, all we want is to do is show our dear friends – the people who light up our lives – how much we appreciate them.
So I was somewhat out of my league last weekend, when I realised that I had organised myself not only into hosting a dinner party for 20 on Thursday night (Thursday! What was I thinking? DH wasn’t even there to help me set up!), but also a birthday party for DS at home on Saturday.
Mad as cheese. That’s what it was. Mad as cheese in the heat with bells on.
But I gave it a good go. On Thursday evening, my garden looked like this:
By Saturday afternoon, it looked like this:
On the whole, I think I pulled it off. But, oh my, do I need a foot massage.