Saturday 15 December 2012

Inside it is toasty and warm; the first jar of blackberry whisky has been opened, just for a taste; Edward Thomas's poetry conjures up all too well what it's like outside.
A wilder night
Coming makes way 
For brief twilight. 
Jamie's six-hour pork and crackling will be ready in an hour or so and smells delectable.

But I have been invited to a party ...
Bath, party frock, lipstick, out into the night air, two buses or a cab, local mums in intense middle-class conversation about the merits of perfectly okay local schools.

I think it's time to put on the roast potatoes.

4 comments:

mary said...

Feels a bit churlish, Sue ... but I am so not tempted!

Anonymous said...

I, too, think that you made the right decision for you. Enjoy the pork and potatoes.

mary said...

Perhaps I have an alter ego who is more sociable, Toffeeapple ... I think I mislaid her c1984.

Darlene said...

The pork and roast potatoes over yummy mummies any day! Would your host be offended if you brought a book and a hip flask? And I don't mean as a hostess gift.