Chaz and the Accidental Dinner Party

[desperance]

Whoops. I seem to have invited people to dinner on Saturday. Sean and Gerry, Harry and Louise and Gail, to be precise.

Therefore, of course, I woke up feeling crap this morning; but we do not cancel, in this establishment. Oh, no. No confessions of weakness for us. Just, there will be a lot of garlic in this dinner. Not in the rhubarb fool pavlova (my own rhubarb! my own folly! see me drool!), but all over the main course, oh yes. Heads of garlic, I tell you: positively heads. Marginally diluted by lamb and beans and wine and rosemary, which is in the slow-cooker already; and by mash, which is not; and by purple sprouting broccoli, which is in the fridge just now to keep it away from the cat; but mostly garlic. *nods*

In other news, I got hailed on. Again. This time, happily, my ears were not functioning as ram-scoops.

Comments

[moral-vacuum.livejournal.com]

1) No panicking that no-one's going to turn up.
2) No slicing bits off your fingers.
3) Ensure cats are chained up in the cellar during any of the food preparation/consumption process.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

1) This I can manage, I think: that kind of panic is for parties. Dinner-guests usually do turn up; my panics are reserved to omigod-it-all-tastes-horrible and omigod-there-won't-be-enough.

2) Pfft. Me and vicious edged weapons in feverish proximity? Gonna happen.

3) Hah. We do not submit to chains, or any other limits on our freedoms. We are Cat, which is to say smoke and mirrors. Barry could already open most of the doors in the house; Mac has solved the rest (and, alas, taught Barry...).

[sora-blue.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the friend add. :)

(I think I've seen you posting on Ms. Mahoney's journal.)