I’ve got to hand it to him – for a grumpy old man, my husband still knows how to light up a room…
The ‘I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-Gourmet-or-MasterChef’ Christmas party is almost upon us and the scene is set. The mirror balls have been stripped of a year’s worth of sawdust and reckless spiders; the snowy drop sheets stapled over every surface in anal-retentive pleats; the hot-pink and acid-green cellophane neatly lashed to the spotlights. He’s even repainted the white concrete floor – all the better to reflect you, my dear…
Those of you who are still hanging around this blog as recklessly as the aforementioned spiders may recall an earlier blog titled (originally enough) ‘Christmas party: part 1’ and illustrated with a gloomily lit corner of our shed captioned (you guessed it) ‘Disco shed – before’.
I love a sequel – almost as much as I love a sunburnt country.
So this is it – but it’s more of a pre-sequel, as the party hasn’t happened yet.
But I just wanted you to see how it’s all going. Those strange objects dangling in front of and below the sparkling mirror balls are actually quite sweet white porcelain pieces. Not, as you might initially suspect, large, airborne moustaches; but angels’ wings. I got them in a sale last year at Have You Met Miss Jones (a purveyor of occasionally whimsical pottery in Sydney, for the benefit of all my many international blogtrotters).
Yup. Underneath this hard-boiled exterior, I’m more fey than Tina.
The other dangling things are stars, obviously.
Rest easy that you won’t be getting a ‘Christmas party: part 3’, because by then it will all be too late – the cheeseboard will have turned back into a board, Cinderella will have cut herself on some broken glass when she took off her shoes because they were killing her, and the handsome prince will be asleep standing propped up against a speaker booming out Urthboy.
It’s unlikely that the police will be called at 4am, though, as they were for our friend’s 60th birthday party a few weeks ago. But you can’t have everything.