BBQ Fun

The humble BBQ, We are great fans Glenys and I, of the masterful social convention we Brits do so well, we must be the only country in the world that lights a fire in the middle of the garden as soon as the weather gets hot, like it's the most sensible thing in the world.

Anyway, we went to a bit of a BBQ masterclass at the weekend, it was a three day spectacle of continuous meaty goodness. Rich was in charge of the flames (fear not Matt, your crown was not lost - the sausages were just not up to your heady standards) and Catherine was in charge of the accoutrements (please, someone tell me that that is a word, even if it's spelt wrongly, I don't care, just let it be a word!)and they were good accoutrements, involving cous cous filled yorkshire puddings (and I know that that sounds horrible but YUM!) and lots of sundried tomatoes, pasta dishes etc. We have basically come back from filling our faces for three days, if I don't eat for the rest of the week my body will be like 'so what?! there's still some chicken in here that will see us through until Christmas!'

It was a weekend of hanging out with Glenn's friends which if I haven't mentioned before, I find VERY TRAUMATIC. It's not that they aren't lovely people, they are, all of them, I have not met one single friend of his who hasn't had some kind of likeable quality, some fewer than others granted but they all have something. It's just that I have hang ups going back to high school of getting involved with people who have been friends for a long time. Also, they are very 'laddy', you know, all the lads have this habit of huddling into a corner and talking about football and Times Gone By (at one point on Saturday I thought the only way to get involved in a conversation was to grow a penis, travel back in time and enrol at Preston Uni) what this basically means is that the girls (none of who know each other very well by the way because we are banned from most social get togethers so the boys can get nekkid, beat bongo drums and cry in the woods together in peace) HAVE to talk to each other. You can understand that this can get a little awkward and I find myself saying UNBELIEVEABLY dull things because I am so afraid of offending somebody or sounding like an idiot. Then I spill things, which automatically makes me 'you know, that girl who threw drinks down herself and had to be taken away so she could change'. God is not smiling on me.

Anyway, other than my dull conversation it was a really nice weekend and they are all going to come to us at the end of August for our housewarming. If you're reading this and you know me and you haven't been invited, that's because it was decided this weekend in a drunken moment of 'I have a house! And you should all come to my house! Yay! Party at ma-house!' and you will of course be invited when I come down off the ceiling where I currently live, buoyed by the stress of having invited people to a house that ISN'T EVEN NEARLY DECORATED REMOTELY TASTEFULLY YET. So please, come to my house! But don't judge me. And expecially don't judge my dull comversation.