Gallimaufry

Roll on next year!! I had a humdinger of a party yesterday, better than I used to have when I was a child. Even though I'd made stripey jelly and we forgot to eat it, the conversation rhubarbed, a Hungarian guest managed to fix 3 sets of broken fairy lights in 5 minutes using aluminium foil, the wine and beer flowed, the veggie chili got gobbled up, and many faces from the past popped up on the doorstep with guitars, trumpets, flowers (thank you Treacle!), small children in suits, and as usual, I found an oven full of forgotten jacket potatoes this morning. McSis and Big and Little Bruvs had clubbed together to purchase a pink fluffy sporran for me, a most extraordinary gift of terrifying accuracy. Who came? the McFamily Massive full of roaring good cheer, Mike and Em full of merry energy, Little Claire's lovely mum, a brace of Sarf London youths, Lucy O'Brien, looking very well mid-way through her book on Madonna, and her partner; half the contents of our old house in Camberwell Grove, Ari, her son and niece, Nadya of the fascinating PHD, Rowen looking very stylish, and some other very special friends; it helps to live en route to and from everybody's relatives Up North and in the Black Country! We had music- two ginger-tops duetted on guitar, I played a song with Paul (who used to play sax in Helen and the Horns), my nephew sang Away in a Manger, two ex-members of King Kurt gave a rendition of Lonesome Train and the 3-hour iTunes party playlist played through three times before I noticed and iTuned out. The floor was satisfyingly sticky after everyone had gone, my sporran was full of telephone numbers of long-lost friends, there was a half-eaten mince pie tucked behind the radio and a lipgloss had been posted into a full beer bottle. Anyone lost a gold-coloured kilt pin or found Kate's pink scarf?