Mayday bank holiday and the christening of my ginger neph. On Sunday morning I took break from filling vol-au-vents with my aunt, sister and Mrs I., to slip away into the garden. The month of May can transform anywhere: pink-white apple blossom confetti-ed the lawn, wild strawberries flowered, and that bright green blanket of spring was everywhere. Which is a rather florid way of saying the whole garden seemed to be waiting for the party to begin.
Catering for 70 must be daunting, but aunts and uncles appeared with plates of sandwiches, someone manned a bar, Rose conjured up a beach bucket to fill with bags of children's snacks and Mrs I's tray bakes of cake filled borrowed plates.
The meringues especially remind me of family weddings more than 20 years ago.
Whilst not being strictly necessary at 4pm, the food drew people outside, gave strangers a talking point and helped rescue more than one stilted conversation. It was all madly appreciated and I hope Mrs I. was not too tired from all the organising... Liz and Mark's champagne 'for when everyone has gone' was perfectly pitched!
And the left over brie and stilton was a great lunch with olives and salad today.
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