Once more in to the fray with the Kevinettes. Another night of laughter, tall tales, good food and wine. And some banter about the books.
Hmmm, yes, the books.
Remember my last post about our very simple guidelines for the bookclub? The black book in to which we write our comments and thoughts about what we have just read?
Mine went as follows (for the first book): "Shag, kill, shag, kill, shag, kill, kill, kill, repeat..."
And for the second: "Like reading the rantings of someone with ADHD on speed who is about to suffer from an overdose of verbal diarrhoea."
Except that as we caught up over a glass - or three - of wine on a weekday night, I rumbled in my bag to find my notebook and pen and scribbled down some of the amusing anecdotes.
"Are you taking notes?" asked Belfast Blonde.
"Uhmm, yes," I answered, a tad sheepishly.
"For your blog?" queried the Botanical Artist.
"Yup!" I laughed, scribbling something unintelligible and putting the notebook away.
And so the evening progressed, we ate delicious food prepared by the Aussie Solicitor (who was hosting), were entertained by the Lovely Radiographer and her recounts of the Paralympics (she was a volunteer at the opening and closing ceremony), and had our Doctor of Psychology propose a potential new member*.
A lovely evening as always.
What about my notes? I hear you ask.
Yes, indeed. Here they are:
No, I have no idea either.
I blame the wine.
* We are still waiting to hear whether this prospective Kevinette will a) be game to join us, and b) be daft enough to last the distance after attending one meeting. Watch this space!