The Christmas season is a whirly-gig of parties. Last week was my work do (on a boat up and down the Thames), and this week we have attended a party at the local Chinese restaurant, followed by Davin's work splurge on the same day. That meant beginning drinking at 12 noon, and finishing at 1 am. Messy.
The first party began sedately enough
Here is Davin early on at the first party (note the hat and the number of drinks that surround him)
Things begin to degenerate, and the Harvey-cam kicks in
So, that party finished, Harvey was dutifully collected and transported to Helen's house for a sleep-over. Davin and I decide to sit on the sofa, and have a short rest. BIG mistake. I am awoken by the panicky cries of
"CR*P! It's 6 O'clock!!"
This is bad news. Very bad news. The taxi is due to collect us at 6:15. We look just like 2 people who have spent all afternoon drinking, and then fallen asleep on the sofa. We do not look like the belles of the ball. Amazingly, I get washed, dressed, shooed and make-upped in less than 15 minutes. The cab arrives on time (the git), and we discover that the driver is at least 98 years old, deaf, almost blind, and very stupid. He drives us to Knebworth House via the back streets of god-only-knows where. Is a miracle I did not hurl in the back of the cab. Travel sickness and I are old friends.
Still, we make it alive. And, it's worth vom-cab, because the ceiling of the marquee looks like this
Unlike at my work do, there is mucho wine on the tables, and £500 behind the bar. It's my kinda party. We drink everything, and it gets silly. Davin hangs bits of Christmas tree from his ears and sticks things up his nose (note he is still wearing the hat).
As much as I love a good party, I love everything else about Christmas. Especially this kind of thing