Dinner: Eating and Providing

I used to do a great deal of entertaining. Most of it involved food. Usually it involved providing dinner for up to 12 (the number in my 'dinner party circle'). However I prefered 10 which was the number that would fit very comfortably around my dinner table.  As it was not uncommon for a couple not to be able to come there was rarely a full complement anyway. That was all so long ago. Now unless I have visitors staying I rarely cater for more than three or four.

I was wondering to myself the other day whether this was because giving dinner parties has gone out of fashion or because of changing social intercourse.  On consideration there are various factors.  

Many of the social crowd that I was part of have died or left the Island. Most of my friends are of a similar age to me and, frankly, much as we all love getting together and even sharing food together, none of us wants to spend two days preparing and cooking a meal for a dozen  people.  So life is much simpler. 

The reason this subject popped into my mind was that, despite getting rid of most of my cookery books, the remnants still account for 18" of bookshelf. 

I last gave friends dinner last weekend and I am just about coming to terms with the fact that we  thoroughly enjoyed the meal (you can tell when people are just being polite!) and that the wonderful "home made" beef steak pie was 'home made' by one of the local butchers. The three local butchers that I and my friends shop at all vie for which can make the biggest variety and the best beef and steak and kidney pies. Not only that they all make their own lasagnes and all manner of things. It's one of the advantages of having local butchers one of whom at least still has a farm with it's own livestock. 

My First Photograph

This is the first photograph that I took. It was of my father and younger brother (the late CJ).  I was 8 years old.  My father was a keen photographer and a member of the (Royal?) Liverpool Photographic Society which 75 years ago used to meet in the Bluecoat Chambers in Liverpool City Centre.  The Society  doesn't appear to exist now although there are other photographic societies in the area.

What really struck me is the fact that my father was wearing a suit and tie despite the fact that we were on holiday and staying at the holiday cottage my parents had. Unfortunately I'm not sure which one it was. My parents had a cottage in or near Mostyn on the Welsh coast of the estuary of the River Dee at one time but also had one on the Wirral coast somewhere around Heswall for a while. I think that the latter one was green (and called The Green Hut) so this is probably the former. 

Last of The Summer Wine Club

Whilst we are on the subject of friends many people, particularly those in the same organisation or workplace who are part of a group of colleagues who have worked together for many years often make friendships which carry over when they retire. Of course some people move away when they retire or do not live anywhere near former colleagues. In my case I live on an island (and, yes I appreciate that Britain is an Island but I think you understand what I mean) as do a significant number of my former colleagues. So getting together is relatively easy.

In my case many of my former colleagues live in and around Stornoway. I retired from the local council 30 years ago. On the first Wednesday of every month we have a lunch club for retirees. We call it The Last of the Summer Wine Club. My readers in the UK will understand that reference. For those who do not there is a television programme which was on television for 31 years from January 1973.  In short three elderly men from Yorkshire prefer to stay young by engaging in "youthful" activities whilst reminiscing about their childhood days.  I enjoy watching it now as much as I did half a century ago - it hasn't dated one little bit.

Friends

I woke up this morning. This is something I've been doing for over eight decades and something I hope that I will be doing for some years to come providing that my mental faculties remain reasonably able to steer me through the day without too much trouble. 

Someone asked me recently if I had any male friends. I thought it was a very strange question and said so and asked why such an assumption should be made. Apparently it was very simple. I have coffee in The Woodlands several times a week at least. All the people with whom I have coffee are friends I have known for many many years (at least two I have known for over half a century). However all my 'coffee mates' are female. Why? Because their husbands are no longer with us.  I do have one male friend and former colleague I've known for 51 years with whom I have lunch in The Woodlands every Friday. His wife died a couple of years ago after many years of illness. 

On a Saturday morning I used to meet my son, Gaz, for coffee in An Lanntair (the local arts centre) whilst my grandson went to his drama class.  About half way through a friend (whom I've met for coffee on a Saturday morning for many years) would come and join us and then Gaz would take Brodie swimming.  Some say that routine is boring. I find it quite comforting.

However that routine came to a sudden end a few weeks ago when Gaz very suddenly decided to go back to sea. He received a phone call on a Thursday offering him a Chief Engineer's job on a superyacht. A job he has done for many years before he 'retired' several years ago. So one Saturday we were coffeeing and a few days later he was afloat at the other end of the Mediterranean. Now he is 'languishing' in Monaco.  It can be a hard life!