Another six weeks or so have passed since the last book club rendezvous.
Kevin must have been feeling decidedly twitchy as we had one no-show, one late drop-out, and one "unable to make it due to family commitments".
What? We are family FFS! Tsk. Honestly, you just cannot get the staff these days.
No matter. We had a wonderful time, all four of us.
Cozied up in the kitchen whilst the extremely talented Botanical Artist cooked up some dinner, drinking more than was strictly necessary on a Monday night, discussing the pros and cons of the books we had read (and before you get cynical, I had managed one of them in full, and not the shorter of the two I might add, thus redeeming myself after the last performance) amidst other anecdotes about work, life, food and whatever else struck our fancy.
We were pretty tame, I thought. And very good conversationalists, of course.
And then this was slipped under the (closed) door. By the BA's six-year-old daughter.
Obviously our volume control, despite the reduced numbers, was not quite functioning properly.
Just as well I am hosting next time. We can piss off the neighbours as well while we're at it if everyone shows up.