Saturday 31 January 2009

Z prepares to Bring, Share, and be a Wallflower

It was a long cold day and I don't really feel like going out tonight. I'd rather curl up in an armchair with a book, music, glass of wine and a juicy steak. Well, you don't exactly curl up with a steak, you sit up and eat it nicely. A crackling log fire, also not with me in the armchair, would be the rest of my most desired evening. But I bought those tickets for a ceilidh, so to that we must go for the friend I bought them from would otherwise think I'd just been polite in buying them, whilst actually I was being friendly. At least, I thought, I wouldn't have to get dinner ready and there was food in the fridge for Ro to prepare his own.

During the afternoon, I got out the tickets and looked for the time it is to start. I saw those words that are the bane of the churchgoer's life. "Bring and share supper".

'Bring' - it's a good word, a giving word. 'Share' - how generous and friendly. Sometimes it means embarrassment, when you've made some hasty cheese sandwiches and bring them along to find everyone else has been spending the day cooking. Sometimes, you go to more effort and find that everyone dives happily at your home-made smoked salmon mousse and chocolate brownies, leaving you to the Tesco's Basic Pork Pie, quartered and ignored. However, if it's a friendly get-together, you don't mind, it's all part of the occasion. But when you've paid to go and you aren't going to dance as your knee is more than usually achy and the Quasimodo Lurch is not a desirable part of Strip the Willow and you're tired and hungry, the thought of being fed, preferably with a nice plate of hot chilli or shepherd's pie, or even macaroni cheese, is an appealing one. I'd have paid an extra fiver happily for it.

I trust it's a dress-down occasion. I'm not climbing out of my jeans and into more elegant clothes, not for nothing nor no one.


The Preacherman said...

Oi!!! I like Tesco's pork pies!!!!

I only ever take beer anyway.

Wifey once introduced me to a Bishop as "my pisshead husband".

Credit where it's due he never missed a beat

Anonymous said...

There's always someone who doesn't bring, have you noticed that? Why not let it be you, just for once?

Z said...

I suppose you'd turn up your nose at my chocolate brownies then, Preach? No, I thought not. And I took beer too. And pizza. And rather nifty little fish pate on slices of cucumber jobs, but shall we forget that moment of pretension?

When meeting a Bishop, I usually offer to park his crozier and get him a glass of wine. The offer is well received. Good blokes, bishops.

Hello, DL. That never occurred to me. Actually, we had a very jolly evening and plenty of beer mellowed me nicely.

luckyzmom said...

Glad to hear it turned out "a very jolly evening".

Z said...

Um, yes. Actually, I'm not quite so 'jolly hockey sticks' when you meet me in person. That is, I say the same things but they don't come over quite like that.

Dave said...

I spent the evening curled round a pizza watching videos of what I had missed last week.

Rog said...

It's very easy to make arrangements to go out on a Saturday but the nearer the time approaches the better a fire and bottle of wine at home appear!

I'm wondering if Dave's Pizza was 12" as the circumference is only Pi x D which is not quite as tall as Dave.

Anonymous said...

I spent the evening in front of a nice warm fire and fell asleep!

Gordie said...

LOL @ "sit up and eat it nicely". An instruction worth adding to my repartee. (Especially when there's a bishop about.)

Z said...

Are we all getting old then?

If I were you, Dave, I'd have eaten that pizza rather than making a bed of it, however nicely you curled around its circumference.

Gordie, as so often, I'm lost for words. You've made me blush again.