A tale of two dinners

We had two dinner invitations this weekend. I am not sure they could have been more different.

Friday was over at S&E's place, with C&J as well. I used to work with S and C in my Job in a Business Park. It wasn't much of a job and I didn't stay very long, but they did pay well and I did meet some cool people. I don't see them often enough, but we have a lot of fun.

Especially when it's S&E's turn to plan something. They have a) a lot of imagination and b) more drive than a 747.

When we got there M said oh bugger, they said to bring slippers, it's shoes off. What? I thought. They rent, surely they won't have got new carpets?

They hadn't, but what they *had* done was turn the dining end of their kitchen/dining room into a kind of Bedouin tent. The walls were cardboard boxes painted black, and there was a door cut in one end which aligned with the door out into the garden for C&J to sneak in and out for smokes.

The main entrance was through black curtains, and it was lit by lamps shining through tissue paper windows, fairy lights on the fabric-draped ceiling laid out like the stars, and tealights floating in water (slightly mitigating the rampant fire hazard). We sat cross legged on cushions and blankets and ate like kings and queens. You'd never have known we were in Didcot.

It was wonderful. They say they're going to build their own house one day. I believe them.

On Saturday it was dinner for 12 with The Band and assorted others out in Widdershins or some similarly named village in deepest Oxon. The house, belonging to A&P, was cottagey yet vast, the alcohol was plentiful, and aside from me spilling a whole box of soy sauce-toasted nuts on the carpet and having to spend 20 minutes crawling round sweeping them up it all started in very civilised fashion, with smoked salmon and small talk. A bit like the opening of an episode of Inspector Morse.

Later we ate Aga-baked pies followed by Aga-baked puddings in a long, beamed, candle-lit room, drank more alcohol, and had a big sing song (except me, I never get drunk enough to sing in public). It was quite odd -- they are M's Band, not mine, though I do know them all -- but rather marvellous in a 'how did I get here' sort of way. It was certainly a splendidly bountiful occasion, I must remember to do my thank yous.

Almost inevitably, some red wine was spilt, and covered in salt, and the tablecloth folded over to cover it. Which is when I saw that the table was made of MDF. A really big bit of MDF. A had built it specially.

So I suppose that actually they *could* have been more different, because they did have homemade tables in common.

When we get back from our Big Hols we will have a functioning kitchen *and* a functioning dining table. I can't wait to start returning the favours.

joella