So last weekend we held the writer’s group’s Christmas party, as we’ve been doing for five or six years now. As always it was a blast. Which I really needed given Mum’s rapidly declining health.
As usual I made chili; TYG, who loves it, said it was fine despite using less Chipotle sausage than usual (there’s a shortage or something and I only found one packet locally). Plus a chickpea/tomato/Parmesan/garlic dish. Guests various brought excellent cranberry brownies, apple pie, Indian cooking and pecan pie. The rest of the evening was pigging out mixed with talk about writing, families, politics and so on. We had a great time, though TYG, as usual, collapsed into bed early. I tried to stay up but I was tired enough I had to settle for watching when Allegra Gullino brought out the Moby Dick version of Cards Against Humanity (all the answers are Moby Dick quotes). I think my weariness was obvious, as we wrapped up sooner than usual.
It was a relatively small group, as we had cancellations for social events, illness and the unpleasant freeze that hit that afternoon. Nothing roadblocking, but one attendee bowed out rather than risk going off the road in her neighborhood.
The pups were in hog heaven. Lots of petting. Lots of attention. They got into the cocoa powder one guest spilled (used in making an alcoholic hot chocolate) but not enough to make them sick, though it did alarm us to catch them. I scrubbed every trace of chocolate off the floor very thoroughly after things wrapped up.
And as a bonus, we managed a really thorough cleaning. It’s sort of the equivalent of spring cleaning in getting stuff thoroughly dusted, swept or cleaned up I normally don’t have time for.