Several months ago, my dad asked me to attend a Freemason Ladies' Festival with him. He asked if as the President's Lady, I'd mind delivering a speech.
I said, "Yes, not a problem, dad."
The weeks flew by and the weekend was upon us. Until last week, I think it's fair to sum up my knowledge of all things Freemasonry as nil.
Several members of my family were in attendance as well as about 50 complete strangers. I like both a challenge and the chance to get involved in new situations, so I was more than happy to be there and be part of something completely different. My lack of research, however, was to come back to bite me.
It really was a great weekend, spent in the early autumn sunshine when such weather feels like you've cheated nature in some way by avoiding October winds and lashing rain. The two days were filled with good food, fantastic company and enough alcohol to quench anyone's thirst. Not knowing what to expect of the weekend, I had no preconceived ideas. I was given a very warm welcome by the North Star Lodge and the other guests, and would like to thank them for their friendliness and encouragement.
My big moment came when I stood up to give my speech. It seemed to go without incident and they laughed in the right places. Relieved it was over, I was able once more to down some wine without having to worry about slurring and making a fool of myself. Or so I thought.
This was where my lack of fact-finding prior to the event took more of a chunk than a bite out of me.
"Ready for the first dance with your dad?" asked the Toastmaster.
"My what?" I asked.
"Can you waltz?" my dad asked.
"No," I said.
I didn't stand a chance. Following three embarrassing sweeps of the dance floor, I asked, "Can't I just do the speech again? That was less humiliating."
Not to worry, I think only about 50 people were watching.
Monday 15 October 2012
Sunday 7 October 2012
The curly edge of friendship
This year has seen large scale celebrations in Great Britain along the lines of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Olympics. My own celebrations were on a much more modest scale with six close friends enjoying a day out in London yesterday.
Thirty years ago, hideous brand new blazers on our backs, we all set foot in our secondary school for our first day. Good fortune put us in the same class. Over the next couple of years, we became friends sharing the ups and downs that accompany being teenage girls, though it was missing today's complications of Facebook, texting, instant messaging and cyber bullying. A Walkman taking four AA batteries was an object of desire in the 1980's.
The seven of us realise that despite living farther away from each other than we used to, despite the husbands, children, jobs and geography, it's something unusual that we're all still friends and remain in touch. As well as other gatherings, every five years, we arrange a day out and yesterday to mark our 30th anniversary, we met up to laugh and talk our way through the afternoon and evening.
After meeting in a pub along the Strand for a libation we then headed to a nearby hotel for afternoon tea (I said it was a celebration - I never said that we were hell-raisers). It wasn't a cheap day out for any of us and I was dismayed to find that after waiting some time for the sandwiches the size of postage stamps and a glass of champagne at the princely sum of £35, the bread was hard. Two out of seven of us had been given food clearly on the turn. We complained. Very un- British but thirty five quid is thirty five quid.
Fairness to the manager, we all got replacement sandwiches. The other five had eaten their allotted trio of tiny triangles so a row was on the horizon. After thirty years, we're not worried about shouting the odds over an egg and cress sarnie. Squabble quashed by the careful dibs of the unexpected treasure, we carried on with the cakes and scones.
Heading off to another bar, high on a sugar rush, we drank some more and wandered in the direction of our next instalment in the form of 'Rock of Ages'. Before we disappeared into the theatre, we tried to come up with a date for our next get-together. Diaries and planners at the ready, we crossed off one weekend after another before coming up with the next available date that all of us could manage - Friday 4th January 2013. Hope wherever we book doesn't make the sandwiches too far in advance.
Thirty years ago, hideous brand new blazers on our backs, we all set foot in our secondary school for our first day. Good fortune put us in the same class. Over the next couple of years, we became friends sharing the ups and downs that accompany being teenage girls, though it was missing today's complications of Facebook, texting, instant messaging and cyber bullying. A Walkman taking four AA batteries was an object of desire in the 1980's.
The seven of us realise that despite living farther away from each other than we used to, despite the husbands, children, jobs and geography, it's something unusual that we're all still friends and remain in touch. As well as other gatherings, every five years, we arrange a day out and yesterday to mark our 30th anniversary, we met up to laugh and talk our way through the afternoon and evening.
After meeting in a pub along the Strand for a libation we then headed to a nearby hotel for afternoon tea (I said it was a celebration - I never said that we were hell-raisers). It wasn't a cheap day out for any of us and I was dismayed to find that after waiting some time for the sandwiches the size of postage stamps and a glass of champagne at the princely sum of £35, the bread was hard. Two out of seven of us had been given food clearly on the turn. We complained. Very un- British but thirty five quid is thirty five quid.
Fairness to the manager, we all got replacement sandwiches. The other five had eaten their allotted trio of tiny triangles so a row was on the horizon. After thirty years, we're not worried about shouting the odds over an egg and cress sarnie. Squabble quashed by the careful dibs of the unexpected treasure, we carried on with the cakes and scones.
Heading off to another bar, high on a sugar rush, we drank some more and wandered in the direction of our next instalment in the form of 'Rock of Ages'. Before we disappeared into the theatre, we tried to come up with a date for our next get-together. Diaries and planners at the ready, we crossed off one weekend after another before coming up with the next available date that all of us could manage - Friday 4th January 2013. Hope wherever we book doesn't make the sandwiches too far in advance.
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