I went to bed last night feeling rather pleased with myself. The buffet supper went well. Mikey and I excelled ourselves in the kitchen and the food was pretty good. The cheese was awesome.
There was one dodgy moment while we were all tucking in. Swisser decided whis would be a good time to discuss Harry de Cat's recurring worm problem. But we all told her to SHUT UP. Especially Zoe. And eventually she did.
There were a couple of notable absenses. Ploppy Pants didn't turn up because he and Swisser have had a row about her loving Bert 'too much' and Ian wasn't there because he's rehearsing for the Omagh Bluegrass Festival next weekend. Get him.
But the best thing of all was that I entertained, I did it well and I did not drink. The only thing I yearned for was a wee drop of Laphroaig but I resisted the temptation. It's not as if it's the last bottle on earth.
Zoe and her beloved are going boating today. She says that no one is going overboard. I hope she keeps her word.