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As soon as I arrived last Saturday a woman asked me my name. Very insistent she was.
I told her, but when she asked me my name immediately afterwards I knew she had been partying a while.
She had the look.
Next I bumped into Lyndal. “Look after me,” she said, “I need a drink.”
I got the impression she’d had a few, but, hey, it’s Christmas.
The host, John, welcomed the long-suffering Mrs Kendall and me and pointed to his pride and joy, no, not that, his new tree house.
“I built it myself,” he said with obvious pride.
“Do you want to see inside,” he said to Mrs K rather than me.
“It has a lovely tree up the middle you can hug, and the joist is amazing.”
Obviously John had started early too.
Lyndal wanted another drink, and then spilt some. “Will somebody escort me to the ladies,” she said with an elegance and poise only the refined drinker can manage.
The effect was somewhat ruined as she fell into the geranium bush.
The lady who I met on arrival was entertaining herself rubbing mens’ nipples.
She had been set up by Mike who had rather unkindly seen her plight and took advantage. He was designated driver, and had to find his pleasures in other ways than drink.
I was DD too, so could see his point.
Oh well, no reason to disappoint a lady.
John was trying to entice all newcomers into his tree house, then realised he was supposed to be cooking the leg of lamb so off he scurried.
There was a general wander down to the pool. The nipple lady took me aside and let me know she liked the sensation too. I didn’t have a ready answer.
She then went away and was not seen again. A first casualty and it was only 7pm.
I went to the pool having dodged Mrs K who was about to ask me what THAT woman was saying to me.
In the pool was a three-legged dog on the boogie board. He was having a great time.
I mentioned I was not going in the pool to Karen.
“I will be skinny dipping later,” she said.
“I don’t think you will,” said her husband.
No question who was the DD there.
Karen’s expression turned into “You will not tell me what to do” and I turned my attention to the dog.
Best steer clear of the marital stuff.
Lyndal was out of the geraniums by now, and it was time to start eating.
The hostess had done us proud and the food was amazing, we tucked in to the fare as if we had never eaten.
John was busy with his meat in the garden, the lamb had to be just right.
It was obviously taking a bit longer than he expected.
The hostess told us to hold back and not be full, as John wanted to make sure we had lamb.
At least it took his mind off the tree house.
As we started eating I reminded Karen of her skinny dipping promise.
Her husband glared a bit.
Lyndal spilt some food on her dress, stood up and tripped into the geraniums, and then elegantly asked to be escorted to the bathroom to “clean up”.
Everyone was full by now, some with food, and then the lamb arrived.
Whether it was wanted or not it was on the plate, mind you it was lovely.
Lyndal had a camera, so everyone was photographed. For some reason they were all blurred.
Darkness fell, and we had a bit of rain so we sat under the verandah telling jokes.
Karen was offering to skinny dip for the best joke... there were a few entries.
Lyndal got up to tell one, but fell in the geraniums.
John told a good one, but ruined the moment by going on about the tree house and his joist again.
The seasoned drinkers, you know who you are, carried on quietly... and to top the evening off nicely Lyndal fell into the geraniums three times in a row.
Merry Christmas.
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