Partying with Pals in DC

Sunday was Margie's Holiday Brunch, an event never to be missed, and one always immensely enjoyed by yours truly. Armed with beers and nibbles I marched to her festive front door and was a little surprised to find the house emptier than expected. I'd arrived later than usual and had hoped to walk into a house heaving with people, folks bopping to 70's disco music in the lounge and packed like sardines in the dining room and kitchen.

Instead I walked into soft chatter and the lounge area was empty. This was actually great as it meant I could take a photo of the new additions to her decor. It was certainly a lot pinker than previous years but the eccentric taste was definitely appreciated by me. I'm a big fan of Margie's acquisitions, and this year, added to the stuffed animals that graced each room, there was a lurid mannequin standing by the fireplace, appearing to be expectantly waiting for a dance partner. Where does Margie find these things?

The deer, or antelope, in the dining room was dressed finer than I remembered from last year, looking as though it was the resident Santa. The tree, as usual, was resplendent, and I wondered if next year I might get a larger fir myself. My current tree was perfect for the tight spaces in Meadow House but now I have a larger area, so this thought was filed away to be revisited when the After Christmas Sales begin. Once again I admired the beautiful wooden balustrades of the staircase but was distracted as my nose had been assailed by the delicious aroma of roast turkey, so I wandered further into the party.

The plus side of less people was the realization that I'd get a good serving of the turkey dinner that on previous years I have missed. I've been used to the remnants of the plates that had previously been speedily picked clean by the earlier guests. But today I was lucky. The nearly complete turkey was pulled into an alluring pose by a guest so I could take a photo, and another guest was totally engrossed in making the perfect gravy, from scratch. I watched as he poured the turkey juices and meat pieces from the roasting tin into a saucepan, adding veggie juice and flour. Perfect. I licked my lips as I hungrily, and a little impatiently, awaited my turn at ladling some onto my plate of turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes. Apparently this same guest had whipped a couple of bottles of alcohol from a previous event of Margie's and when caught red-handed had declared that he was using them in 'cooking', and dishes would be brought to Margie's house. Today, a dessert had been produced with a flourish, a '52 bomber pie' or something, which had slipped to one side on it's plate, resulting in a very tipsy looking pie. Resembling a lemon meringue pie, it was a pastry crust with a greenish filling, topped with a yellowy custardy coating. It was promptly renamed an 'Alaskan Tsunami Pie', a title that attracted much interest, including mine. I had no time to take a photo as we were told the cook was leaving and taking the rest of the pie with him, so we all carved a quick slice and devoured it. I  helped myself to a largish piece and upon hefting a bigger than usual forkful into my mouth, gasped as the brandy fumes escaped with each chew. It was definitely loaded with alcohol, but in a very tasty and delectable way. No sooner had we demolished our slices when the chef walked in and swiftly lifted the pie dish out of our reach. A shame as I'd been considering another serving.

Margie rummaging among the vast pile of pressies under the tree. She's very astute and thoughtful, having gone to the sales last Christmas and bought many bits and bobs to give out as presents to her friends this year. I received a pair of stretchy leggings in green with ginger cats wearing Santa hats adorning them. They were a size S/M so I was amazed when I got home and tried them on to find that they fitted me. Isn't elastic marvelous?!

Due to the smaller crowd there was no dancing in the lounge to Abba this year, and as I looked about me it seemed that the stuffed animals were horrified at this lack of entertainment. They stood and stoically stared, grimacing horribly, while we all stood around the food and stuffed ourselves.

 Margie has a very eclectic array of friends, meaning that her parties are always interesting, amusing and memorable. A couple of years ago we had one person who was the spitting image of Catweazle, an English children's TV character, and this year we had The Hamster. Richard Hammond from Top Gear has this nickname due to his name and diminutive size, so it was with absolute glee when I spotted one of Margie's friends sitting across the room, looking identical to The Hamster, even down to the leather jacket. I can't wait to see who will appear next year!

It was with much reluctance and regret that I had to leave. The daylight was fading, Christmas lights twinkled on the front steps of Margie's house, and the party was still happening. Once again, I'd celebrated the season with wonderful friends, and laughed aplenty. I almost envied not living in DC, where I could have stayed longer and had a shorter journey home, but as I sat in the traffic, the car ventilation turned off because of car fumes, I was glad to be heading west where my little new home was snuggled in a quiet part of town right at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains and where two female felines were waiting for their dinner. I really am fortunate to be able to enjoy both worlds, the town and the country, within an hour of each other.