sashinka | observation orientated, with a twist of lime | a blog

The Morning After the Night Before
Well, two mornings. Whatever.

Saturday night, I was in Manchester to celebrate a very special anniversary for my parents, surprise-style.

So we (me, bro, sis and assorted other halves) had been teasing that they were going to Harry Ramsdens, and they were all dressed up in their party clothes at 7pm, and we went outside, and they nearly fell over: a 120 inch Lincoln Town Car (mit blue lights). They loved it. We loved it. It's hard to turn corners in a stretch limo, so we went the long route into town, enjoying the smoked-glass one-sidedness of seeing all.

My Dad had realised we were going to the Lowry Hotel when we turned into Deansgate, but it was still great. When we got out of the limo, there were loads of "press" photographers, but they were actually there for a function, but still took our photos. Fame, eh?

Three couples, very old friends of my parents, were waiting in the private area of the bar I'd organised, and they all looked fabulous and suitably sparkly (even the men), and my Mum and Dad were deeply surprised and loving it. Then we made our way into the private dining room, where the table had been set (as per my request) with red orchids and scattered flowers on the tables, and little red hearts on the table decorations. It looked fab.

We took lots of photos, had a beautiful meal (from a specially chosen menu with all their favourites), toasted my parents, and had a couple of informal speeches.

How's this for weird: my Dad went out to powder his nose, and came back and said "can you beleive it? XXXX is having dinner here, it's his (second) wife's birthday!". XXXX was my parents best man at their wedding in 19XX. The world works in mysterious ways...

The evening was only slightly marred by a fire alarm that went off at 11.15 when our evening was drawing to a close, but it was a very special celebration of wonderful parents, and family and friends.