It was a raucous foregathering last evening in the subdivision! The lights, the fireplace and everyone in between were ablaze!
Things began innocuously enough, as they always do in these casual Saturday social circumstances, with a frozen vodka martini, nourished by some salted roasted pecans. But the pace picked up steadily, accompanied by asparagus spears wrapped in smoked prosciutto crudo, then surprisingly followed by an equally tantalizing and quite unexpected serving of spicy grilled prawns in the shell.
The chatter was distinctly animated, deprived as the parties were of one another's company for such a long space, during which so much had transpired. So too the interruptions of the flow of conversation were many, deeper questions about seemingly nothing facts, inquisitions concerning detail of realty holdings, and even a diversion outside upon the deck to view the giardino segretto. The cool air of the evening did, however, assure a speedy retreat within the drawing room to resume the coziness of the fireplace and the comfort of the liquor and food.
Although the undertaking had been posited beforehand, the venture into the music room was mistakenly delayed beyond the immediate arrival of the guest of honour (indeed, the only guest). I say "mistakenly" because, as anyone knows, one's facility upon the keyboard is poisoned by an alcoholic additive. Nonetheless, considering the evening was marked by blithe unconcern, I like to think my rendition of "Walking in the Air" wasn't a complete failure (though I was provoked this morning to remember to prosecute such things sooner than later). I prefer to believe my auditor appreciated the sensitivity of the performance, the profundity of those almost haunting sounds, notwithstanding a slip here and there.
We thereafter assumed our places at the trough, where we got down to the business of the evening, blades of chicken stuffed with pesto sauce, complimented by buttermilk mashed potatoes. There was of course wine to wash it all down with.
In the helter-skelter of daily living, it isn't often that one has the privilege to reconnoitre with one's dearest friends. But once accomplished, it is always proven to be uplifting and worthwhile. Society is after all the life blood of humanity, as disparaging as one might at times be inclined to observe. Like all indulgences, it pairs both effort and surfeit. Thankfully, we're inclined to recall only the pleasing element of such custom.