Dancing the night away

Well, most of it anyway.

Tomorrow is my dear friend N's 60th birthday and in honour of the event she had a party last night. We've known each other for 44 years, having met at our first day of 6th form college in London and we spent many a happy time negotiating our teenage years and a whole lot more besides.

The party was held in the tapas bar and adjoining flamenco studio around the corner to our Edinburgh abodes (both of us having houses in the same mews a mere 3 doors apart) and No. 1 Son was asked to be the bouncer for the night to keep those not on the guest list out in the freezing Edinburgh streets, while the rest of us enjoyed the frivolities in the warmth indoors. No. 2 Son is in Bristol so he couldn't share in the delights of being the muscle for the night (not that with his skinny frame he would've helped his brother much though).

It was lovely to see my boy looking very smart in his suit, with his beard neatly trimmed. N had lots of photos from her 6 decades and there was one lovely one of her and me and both my boys aged 5 and 6 in Portugal one sunny summer. How cute they were... of course I'm not suggesting they're not cute now, but... well they've certainly changed! I did get to spend a little bit of time chatting with No. 1 Son before the needs must of the dance floor drew me away.

N and I waved our bodies around, just as we'd done in the days of our youth, until she was called away to say au revoir to departing roisters. As I have mentioned on this blog before, my man does not like to dance, but he did well in joining me for a couple until others were brave enough to gyrate around in the glare of the disco lights.

Nothing much stops me from dancing, though I did have a moment when I got quite hot and decided to divest myself of my top layer. It did occur to me that I might be better off sitting out for a while rather than revealing my skimpy top and rather tight black trousers, but after getting the nod from MM that I wasn't causing too much consternation, I continued bravely on.

I had a meeting today all afternoon and after an hour or so of dancing I decided that I needed to be sensible and so it was, before the witching hour, MM and I departed the party and went off to bed.

I think MM was quite grateful that, due to my good sense, I stopped dancing before it became too embarrassing. Actually I think No. 1 Son was grateful too. In fact when I think about it, it was an all round jolly good thing that I didn't dance the whole night away!