APAPS 20.9: Dinosaur Eggs and the Grapes of Mirth

 

Particularly as your regular Blogger was finding it all a bit hard going, he was delighted that, for this edition, Yves offered to write the report of the season´s Grande Finale proceedings, the Blogger restricting himself to just  a few editorial asides, which are in blue text. Over now to Yves.

Wednesday dawned grey and murky; low cloud and rising mist formed an ominous vault over the groves surrounding Casa Esperanza. There, a few burning lights were a welcome beacon for bleary-eyed drivers and some rally driver who showed remarkable skills on loose gravel…(to me, this reference is obscure).

The Egg Man Arriveth, or Timeo Galleos Et Ova Ferentes

Soon, coffee was offered in exchange for contributions towards the feast later in the morning. At that juncture, peace was fractured (Casa Esperanza is far too civilised a home to shatter anything) and mild violence was threatened by the Cook!

 She had opened a box and found out that some eggs had been laid by Rock Chicks: she found them hard to accept! Her eyes lit up when she opened the second box: ‘Look! A duck egg!’ she exclaimed joyously… Only to discover that it was not, ‘Darn!’ With commendable restraint, the Cook threw nothing more substantial than mild rebuke at the Writer’s head.

(The Cook then disrupted the first attempt at the Starter Photograph by chastising the Writer with a wooden spoon.)

Finally, the photograph of the dashing adventurers was taken; as they set off the sun was doing a passable impression of Salomé’s dance (also obscure), revealing itself fleetingly from thin veils of wispy clouds… All was well.

(For some reason, much of the route was way-marked by deposits of old wine bottles, some of which the writer destroyed as he passed (vandal). Some survived.)

Thoughtfully, the Leader had packed some secateurs: he had noted a few growths of thorny plants along the planned route. The Writer was volunteered to clear a path and he came in for more unjustified reproach from the walkers: cutting down thorny bushes is a tricky and certainly delicate process that demands a careful approach and some time, a lot of time. The writer was left behind by the group in their dash for the promised food… Never mind, the path is now free of most scratchy plants for next year!

(It seems that the Writer had attended a barber´s class in Algoz recently and was trying to apply the same delicate trimming techniques that he had acquired there to the task of thorn cutting. Note the similarities in style in these pictures).

Another tall Tale?

And so it was that, back at Casa Esperanza, tomato juice cocktails and Buck´s Fizz were speedily produced, glasses were filled and glasses were emptied,

JohnH brings out the drinks - this one´s for Becky

 glorious food was presented (the cooks –plural, a non-walking member also hobbled around the kitchen (another obscurity) - had excelled themselves!)

There´s a sausage or two under there

and laughter-filled banter echoed from one end of the patio to the other. Toasts were drunk to those absent, inter alia Myriam, Ingrid and Rod.

Paul´s thumbs-Up for the cooks

There were attempts at some sign-language, too, to solve the riddle of the deaf, the dumb and the blind (not the blond!): some failed the test, some showed a spontaneous burst of indifference and one octogenarian cunning linguist solved the riddle in a flash; well done, that old man! (This one is quite beyond me, I´m afraid.)

After the main course, a Finishers´ Photo was taken of all present, the Rule of Ten having prevailed.

                  Terry, Jill, Paul, Chris, Yves, Janet, Antje (with Sacha), Maria, Hazel, and JohnH

and it was then that the hostess’s curiosity was piqued by reports of grapes dangling from the vine outside – (how come we had not noticed these before??? - late growth???) and these reports were investigated by some equally curious partakers. Sadly, the grapes were inedible but there ensued more threats of violence towards the Writer: Nil novi sub sole, which was shining brightly by then…

Sadly, the time came for the gathering to disband; another APAPS season had come to a grand finale.

Here’s to next year!

The Track and the Statistics

Thanks are due:

to all who contributed to the food supply.

to the “kitchen staff”

to the contributors to Hazel´s charity collection (€170)

to Paul and Yves for photos

and not least, to Maria and Yves for their mischief-making with the eggs and the grapes.

Partners in Crime !

Closing Music

Your Blogger had originally thought that the phrase he used in the title “Grapes of Mirth” was entirely original but then he found that an entertainment company in Australia uses it as a trade name for their business, which is conducting wine tasting tours accompanied by comic routines and music. Taste is important, not only in breakfast sausages, but in other comestibles, as Lonnie Donegan now reminds us.

That´s All, Folks.