Wednesday, January 29, 2003

New Year’s Eve

Not wanting to spend another NYE wondering why I didn’t organise something or do something I managed to rope in eight mates who had nothing better to do. The gathering was at the Parsonage and much fun was had – and muchos champagne was drunk. Around five to twelve the sky around our house lit up like a Christmas tree on speed and all ten of us sat gawping out of the bay window at the sky until someone had the sense to grab their coat and run outside. Eventually we all ended up in the street suitably coated up [although I forgot my shoes ... very silly as it was very cold] and enjoyed a blissfully pretty fireworks display that lasted an age. Ian tried to convince everyone that we had worded up our neighbours to set the crackers off for the sole benefit of amusing our friends but nobody bought it. I wonder why. Still, a very nice touch to a warm and cosy and friend-full NYE.

I have developed a Champagne addiction. I can't take the blame for it entirely of course. I blame my colleague. As you do. You see, when Australian played England in the Ashes late last year, my [hopeful] colleague insisted on making a bet. Not being the hard core betting type we wagered a bottle of champagne. Let’s just say I landed a very nice bottle of Moët which Ian and I guzzled to celebrate his topping his class in his final exam and I reacquired my champagne palate. By the time the silly season swung around I was ready for more, and more, and more … Happily I woke up on New Year’s Day without a hangover, managed to feed Mark, Jammy and Ian French toast and coffee before we all retired to the sofas to watch Lord of the Rings … again. Sorry.

Another year starts with a bang. Bing?


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