Whoo, I'm off to a late start this morning. It's really 09:00 for my body clock, but an hour earlier for the actual clock. Or half of them - since we didn't reset half of the timepieces before bedtime. Ok, I'm not sure we reset any of them. My bedside clock automatically changes twice a year, as does the iPhone and the DVR.
Last night we went to a dinner party. A gay one.
Of the 70 something homes in our hood, four of them are homo homes. Three couples and one single guy. We had two other couples, but they both moved away this last summer. It's safe to say our enclave is gay friendly - or as one hottish straight daddy asked "are you guys taking over??"
Anyways, we are fairly close with one of the couples, but not so much the other. We're not unfriendly, it is just we haven't had a lot of interaction with them. They are considerably older, have lived in their house for 34 years (!) and I don't know how long they've been together before that. It is this couple who had the dinner party.
We weren't sure what we were getting into or who would be there, if anyone. As it turns out there were only 3 other people besides us - our friends from down the street and another guy whom we did not know.
Now, we have a big house. I sometimes question the space we have for just two of us - and Sophie. ...and by "sometimes", I mean "often". Ken & Ron could put at least two of our houses into theirs. Obviously, we've seen it from the outside, but have never been in.
We arrived at 19:00 and when Bill & Marty showed up, we got a tour of the house and greenhouse. The tour took at least an hour. An hour!!! At least they gave us a glass of wine before it started.
It is, without a doubt, a beautiful residence, but not one that I would want. The wood is dark - and everywhere. It seemed more funereal than it did a warm home you'd want to kick back in. Actually, there was nowhere casual just to kick back. Everything was formal.
....and it had more Tiffany and Tiffany-like glass than even Tiffany had. No, not the mall singer. I mean Louis Comfort.
Each and every room, no matter how small (and some were small!) had a minimum of three Tiffany lamps....or wall sconces. The bigger rooms could have at least double that. Again, not my style. Nor was the Tiffany-like picture windows that covered almost every single window. I'm all for sun coming through coloured glass and brightening up a room, but in some place, I like to look outdoors and see outdoors. That's just me.
I also don't want to be one of those couples who has separate bedrooms. Let alone ones what still have rotary phones and I swear, as g-d as my witness, their VCR was actually a Betamax.
The actual meal was nice - lamb, seared cherry tomatoes and what I'm thinking were escalloped potatoes. The desserts were nice too - I opted for the lemon tart, which was sour. I think Ken used preserved lemons on top of the curd - which not only added to the tartness, but provided a bite as well.
While the conversation wasn't bad, it was just a little off.
My highlight was their new puppy. Four months old, but they had only had Brody a week. He is a dandie dinmont terrier and way cuter than any Goooooogle image projects. And he was all over me.
I guess I'm glad we went, but I was happy to leave too - at midnight! I don't stay up that late. I just do not.
Now I suppose etiquette requires us to have them over. I think I'll serve Spaghettios and white bread.
Song by: Walter Egan