Had a ball at the L.'s last night; they throw the best parties. Regrettably, I went hog-wild--an apt expression!--in the food department, chowing down with first, the ham, cheese, and cracker appetizers, then pork, gravy, white and sweet potatoes, and cole slaw; the only green on my plate was a lonesome little heap of string beans. Also had several glasses of wine and--here's the biggie--both tiramasu and cheesecake for dessert. Okay, I'll be right back on my regime today, and won't dwell on my over-eating.
Sadly, Pat didn't feel he could go, and believe me, it was dispiriting to drive to Egg Harbor alone--another place we had always gone together for several years. However, Rita M., a widow, was there as a single, and so was Barbara J., whose husband, Frank, had had minor surgery that day. Danny and Kate S., whom I like so much, were there, plus Don and Noreen McG. Along with the gracious hosts, Joe and Flo, that was the group.
All but Noreen are HSHS grads; besides me, they're either 1950 or '51 alum. Kate also graduated from St. James with Pat and my brother, Larry--the others mostly went to "Star." We told stories about events of more than half a century ago, laughed a lot, and basked in the comfort of shared memories.
After the great dinner, we did our ($5) gift exchange, acting silly as we as we opened, then "stole" from each other. I chose to take a jar candle--I keep a lighted candle on the dinner table every night--in "banana nut bread." Smells pretty good.
I brought the digital camera and will transfer the pics to the computer, to show Pat and share with the L.'s. Joe took Polaroid shots (he's the only one I know who still uses that camera, which was so innovative when it came out) of each of us, as he does every year.
Anyway, it was a wonderful Christmasy evening. I didn't get home until after ten, so skipped my popcorn and wine (I had had many times the calories at the party), and went happily to bed.
A conceited additional note: Earlier in the day, I went to Kohl's, hoping to get a pair of semi-dressy slacks to wear to the party. Tried on what seemed to be dozens of them, and was both pleased and chagrined: pleased because I can now fit into most 14 petites, chagrined because the legs are cut so full.
Here's the conceited part: I have nice legs. I was born with them. My mother had nice legs, my older sister did, and so does Betty. We have thin thighs, well-shaped calves, and slender ankles. When I buy pants, I don't want them flapping around my nice legs. I want my nice legs defined and emphasized. Clothiers, take note!
Anyway, I didn't find any that showed off my nice legs, so left empty-handed and wore old, too big, pants to the party.
Cleaners will be here this morning and I want to run to the bank and get some cash as Christmas gifts for them.