PARTY time for the Skoda household with 25 years of marriage under our belts.
For months we had been planning a garden bash under a gazebo, with long shadows, real ale and blackbirds singing in the elderflowers.
What we got was a day of torrential rain and a small house packed with people. There was plenty of real ale, though, and a feast cooked by Nanna which lasted from the official start time of 3pm to close of play almost 12 hours later. There are still onion bhajias and samosas in the fridge, along with several spare bags of Cheesy Wotsits.
When the rain finally stopped we strolled in the vegetable garden and Bazza shared a few tips for successful crops. Reg barked at everyone before retreating upstairs to lie on the bed and glare at all and sundry.
A slideshow highlighting pictures of some of my old haircuts drew cruel laughter from the guests.
Highlights were too many to list, but outstanding moments included Elmer's mighty cheesecakes, the Sun God's arrival which coincided with the rain stopping, as it always does, and Fangio making one gentleman's night complete.
We were packed into the kitchen, as always happens at parties (shouldn't someone write a song about it?) and Fangio and her husband were taking an active role in some faintly ribald conversation about pole dancing. Fangio started to demonstrate the art, using Mr Fangio as the pole, not realising that another guest - an older gentleman with a twinkling eye for the ladies - had walked through the doorway at that point.
His view of Fangio's rear quarters at close quarters put a serene smile across his face which is unlikely to fade for at least a week. Fangio was mortified and overcome with embarrassment, although Mr Fangio found it all very amusing.
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