The time is 4:42. It’s t-minus 78 minutes until guests arrive tonight, but we can’t be cooking or cleaning because someone (acutally, 12 someones) has rather unexpectedly showed up to view the house. They’re getting the tour upstairs while we, the scullions, hide downstairs with flour on our shirts, food waiting in the oven and visions of sugar in our tea. Owlie did try to throw some sugar into my tea just as we were running away (that would be just as the people were arriving) but most of it missed and landed on the counter. She squirted some milk in the direction of my teacup too, but that landed in a pile of grated carrots.
As bad as the tea is, I’m enjoying this little break. Parties are really the most fun for the guests, the hosts have to set up and clean up, both before and after. But that’s ok. I wouldn’t be minding it at all if we would just get back to setting up and cleaning! Everything is on hold because there are seven men in the living room negotiating details of the house sale. There were five women too, but I think they’ve gone back to the car (or cars?) to wait.
Well, the only consolation is that all my guests are friends, only a few are real adults, and none of them will mind if we put them to slave labor just to get the last minute preparations done. My mother, in fact, recommends that all the decorating for a party be left undone, so that the first guests to arrive have something to do while you’re still slaving away in the kitchen. I think I’m going to take a roll of crepe paper and some tape upstairs. Somewhere, we have tin-foil fish (Undersea Journalism Club Party: 2000) and possibly a few grass skirts. Voila! Instant fun!
Ok, it’s now 4:52 and they’re still here. Hmmph. Owlie gave up and went to take a shower. I’m going to pray Asr and go through my extensive and stylish wardrobe (oops, am I lying again?) to see what I haven’t worn to three other parties this year already and maybe, just maybe, I’ll iron it. Decisions, decisions. :p