Thirteen for dinner

Isn't that so wonderfully Agatha Christie? Really this should be the story.

Not long after the party is assembled one of the dinner guests (a rather voluptuous, yet not entirely principled heiress to an international lingerie manufacturing conglomerate, called Miss Scarlet) mysteriously disappears. Brigadier Tartan quickly organises a search - all that can be found of her is a ruby red stiletto on the roof terrace next to her spilt Chanel No. 5 Rouge Noir nail varnish. Just as the hostess, Lady Walsingham, is about the call the local constabulary one of the guests volunteers that the world famous detective, Hercules Pilot, is not only a personal friend but is co-incidentally staying a matter of a few miles away. The well manicured detective arrives promptly and systematically sets about revealing the hidden secrets of all the guests. Cue long shots of anxious aristocracy nursing tumblers of whiskey before slowly confessing how they all had links to Miss Scarlet and a reason to do away with her....

Alas this was not my dinner for thirteen. Mine had no disappearing guests or Belgian detectives. Just lots of lovely food, laughter, a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday" at a rather inappropriate hour of the morning, some crazy plans to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, a pink watering can and several interesting stories about cling film.

The after shot...

Incidentally ask no further questions about Miss Scarlet and Brigadier Tartan....

Introductions - a family party

The Prince of Darkness came for tea on Sunday. So did the rest of his family. To clarify the Prince and I share a daughter and it was said daughters family get together for her birthday. I like his family. This might be because I am quite short of my own family; only one parent left and no brothers and sisters. His family are quite odd like most families are. Grandma is so obstinate and opinionated that it is not worth arguing with her when she insists that the electricity has been turned down because of the credit crunch whilst Grandpa is seemingly mild mannered and gentle but has been known to agree with extreme views expressed by radical muslim clerics. There was an assortment of aunts and uncles and cousins , half and step children and sisters of brothers in law which make up the modern family. Well at least they do in my world.

And of course Wife Number 1 of the Prince of Darkness. As it happens Wife Number 1 and I are firm friends, an arrangment which the Prince probably found convenient when I was Wife Number 2 but is certainly less so now that he no longer resides in the bosom of either family. Sometimes I almost feel a twinge of pity for him.

The party went well although my attempt at a cake was a touch soggy in the middle. The birthday girl was suitably impressed by the addition of another Barbie to her collection and a complete set of High School Musical DVD's. After the teapot was drained and the last sausage roll was squished into the carpet the guests drifted off.

The Prince of Darkness was the last to leave. He kissed me on the cheek and thanked me for a lovely party. I do, of course, still love him. Damn inconvenient.