I never have parties, but it was the first grown-up birthday I have ever had living alone, and it seemed like a good moment to do it. I am so glad I did!
There was gin fizz in a punch bowl, a disco ball, many flamingo accessories and pom-pom garlands (I went a bit party crazy in Tiger - no imagination, but so much fun!), cheese and pineapple on sticks... I even made a cat-shaped green jelly, but I forgot about it until I found it staring at me luridly in the fridge while I was cleaning up the next morning. Loads of my lovely favourites came and it was even a nice enough evening to hang out in the garden.
My friends brought presents, and Annabel made brownies which she then turned into an amazing trifle.
And - oh! - it was a lovely night. Which continued with singing and dancing in the kitchen until the early hours of the morning. But yesterday was sunny, and I managed to drag myself out of bed for outdoor pizza, and I was of course very glad I did.
I am filled with love for my friends and memories of dancing madly round the kitchen to this (and singing along with the French bits, which is one of my favourite things in the world to do):
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