The delights of dinners

Holy moly. Actual people in my house last night for an actual dinner party! There were a couple of friends who came over (on separate occasions) in the summer for a meal on the deck, but three people at once inside the house! That hasn’t happened since last December.

What prompted this? Well, a couple of weeks ago a friend (one of the summer deck dinner guests) invited me for dinner at his new house, along with another mate. While I was there they were talking about other dinner parties. I found myself wondering (out loud) why I hadn’t been to any of these dinners. I realised it was quite some time since I’d invited anyone over here and set out to correct that. 

A note this morning from one of my guests: “exceptional evening, thank you! The food, drink, company, conversation, laughter and setting, soul elevating! Thank you for putting it together. ” 

I don’t know about soul elevating, but it was certainly a lot of fun.

I love dinner parties. Once upon a time I was famous for them. Well, one type in particular.

Mike and I used to have dinner parties in Vancouver, which were generally (other than the last one) a great deal of fun.

One weekend, when he was going to Victoria to visit his parents, I realised it had been a while since anyone had been over for dinner. I really wanted to have a dinner party, but I could hardly do that while Mike was away. Or could I? What if I had a women’s dinner, inviting all my female friends over for a potluck? And so I did. It was, if I do say so myself, a wild success. I wish I could remember my mate Rowan’s hilarious explanation of why men loved golf. All I can remember is that it involved holes and woodies. 

Between conferences and parental visits, Mike was not infrequently away and every time he was gone, I’d have the women over. These dinner parties were incredibly popular.

At the time, my friend Jane had an independent book shop, conveniently located halfway between the Greenpeace office and my home. I regularly stopped in to say hello and get a recommendation. On one occasion as soon as I walked in the door Jane demanded to know when the hell Mike was going away again. Her husband Randy was driving her insane and she needed to vent. 

Yes, these dinners did involve a fair bit of bitching about men. At one we talked about setting up an agony aunt website, inviting women to contact us with the problems they were experiencing with the males in their lives. Legitimate advice would be given, but the response would always end with “Diagnosis: He’s a man”. We never actually got around to doing this, but the idea still makes me smile 25 years later.

I won’t say last night’s dinner party was as riotous as those women’s dinners (we even danced at some!), but it was a huge amount of fun.

I really must do this more often.

Oh, and a big shout out to Joe (minus Georgie, who couldn’t come because Stella would never forgive me) for staying behind to help me with the dishes. People who have dishwashers tend to forget that there is a lot of work left over a dinner for those of us who don’t.

There’s a very funny dishwashing story from a dinner party Mike and I had back in the day. Perhaps I’ll save that for another time.

Meanwhile, as there are no photos from the dinner party, here’s one of Georgie from our walk on Friday.