A perfect night for a spring fling

Don't you just love a party? I adore them - particularly when someone else is hosting them. Last night, The Builder and I went to a Spring Fling, where every detail was perfect. Tea lights flickered inside jam jars that were wired to hang in the branches of the trees, from the pickets of the fence, along the chook pen. Silver tins of orange flowers dangled alongside them. Earth-coloured bunting was strung across the garden. A fire danced inside the circular pit constructed for the occasion. The night was cool and clear, the wine was cold and crisp. Everyone brought a 'plate' and a CD, so both food and music were eclectic and surprising.

Are you jealous?

When I was a child, I wasn't really into parties - well, not judging by the photos and old film footage that my parents took. I never looked entirely comfortable in my party hat. Probably worried that I'd blow the candles out wrong or something.

I remember hosting parties with flatmates in my late teens and early 20s where we'd empty the house of all contents, put plastic on the carpets and then wait to see if anyone would turn up. The most important ingredients for the evening were the alcohol and the playlist. If people were due to arrive at 7pm, we'd be all dolled up by 6pm, having a few 'quiet drinks' to settle our nerves. By the time the first guests arrived fashionably late at 10pm, we'd be so plastered that someone would already have been put to bed.

Great nights, all of them.

These days when The Builder and I hold parties or dinners, I tend to keep myself so busy, worrying about everything being perfect, that it's not until the end of the night, when most of the guests have gone home, that I kick of my shoes and unwind with the half a dozen 'stayers' who you know won't leave until the wee hours.

Last night, we found ourselves in the now-unusual position of being two of the 'stayers'. Sitting around the fire with half a dozen others, laughing and talking until well past our bedtime. No thought of having to get up with the kids, who were staying with my Mum and Dad (and we are eternally grateful). No thought of being responsible parents at all. Just us, under a black, black sky, hanging out with our friends, surrounded by those flickering tea lights.

Sigh. Don't you just love a party?

{image: Tim Walker/Michael Hoppen Gallery}

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