Yes, indeed
Jan. 7th, 2008 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceAll glasses, guests, cats and (apparently) relationships survived the party intact, I think. So that's okay.
Cakes, not so much. There is exactly one slice left of the Drunken White Chocolate Fruit Cake, so that worked. The chocolate absinthe cake was also popular, as ditto the St Emilion (which has been described - I think by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shewhomust - as more chocolate than chocolate itself).
There is but a heel of the ham left, too; and I was surprised by how much of the bread went. I still have half a loaf of pure rye, though. It's kinda like pumpernickel, and works v well with ham and pickle and mustard.
Oh, and the melon-rind pickle was popular too. All in all, I am contented.
So are the cats. I have no idea how much they got fed last night, but there was no question of proper cat-supper; they weren't even agitating for it.
Nor did they come to bed, which puzzled me a little till I went downstairs this morning. Furniture got rearranged for the party, which makes it all kinda new, and they're interested in newness: they were sitting on upright chairs on opposite sides of the dining-room, gazing at each other like royalty at an embassage.
Now, however, normal service has been resumed: which means that Barry is sitting on my manuscript here so I can't read my scribbles, getting a ridiculous amount of head-fuss. You know that kneading thing that cats do on people's knees? He's doing it on my paperwork. And actually purring audibly: I have detected three whole rasps. Happy cat.
Cakes, not so much. There is exactly one slice left of the Drunken White Chocolate Fruit Cake, so that worked. The chocolate absinthe cake was also popular, as ditto the St Emilion (which has been described - I think by
shewhomust - as more chocolate than chocolate itself).There is but a heel of the ham left, too; and I was surprised by how much of the bread went. I still have half a loaf of pure rye, though. It's kinda like pumpernickel, and works v well with ham and pickle and mustard.
Oh, and the melon-rind pickle was popular too. All in all, I am contented.
So are the cats. I have no idea how much they got fed last night, but there was no question of proper cat-supper; they weren't even agitating for it.
Nor did they come to bed, which puzzled me a little till I went downstairs this morning. Furniture got rearranged for the party, which makes it all kinda new, and they're interested in newness: they were sitting on upright chairs on opposite sides of the dining-room, gazing at each other like royalty at an embassage.
Now, however, normal service has been resumed: which means that Barry is sitting on my manuscript here so I can't read my scribbles, getting a ridiculous amount of head-fuss. You know that kneading thing that cats do on people's knees? He's doing it on my paperwork. And actually purring audibly: I have detected three whole rasps. Happy cat.