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A hospitable hiatus

April 5, 2013

I like to be hospitable.  One of very my favourite things is sharing food with family and friends.  The prayer that was said for us at our wedding (which we had copied out (very beautifully by a lovely family friend), framed and put up by the front door as an aide memoire) included the line ‘May the hospitality of their home bring refreshment and joy to all around them’ – a challenge that I will still be trying to meet when I’m 90.

There is, however, a limit to hospitality and we came very close to meeting it this week.  I’ll take you back to Tuesday night, when my darling husband, A, asked if we might be able to have a dinner party for around 10 work colleagues.  No probs, I said – very happy to oblige.  Great, he said, and could we host a lunch for 10 other colleagues as well?  Um, yep, I think so, I replied, although perhaps not on the same day.  Oh no, not the same day, he said, and so the conversation ended.

Fast forward not very far to Wednesday when, as I was chatting about a potential playdate we had on Thursday, A revealed that the lunch for 10 was in fact, also on Thursday.  As in, the next day.  This was, to understate the point perhaps a little, unexpected.  I think the look on my face must have said everything that I was trying very hard not to say, undoubtedly more eloquently and so, on Wednesday evening, A came in to say that the Thursday lunch had been moved to a restaurant (Tuscany in Islamabad which was, apparently, very nice. Here ends the comprehensive review).  The dinner for 10 has been scheduled for next week.  All is well.

I’ve just been summoned by H who was crying.  Apparently his finger hurt.  I asked why and he replied that he’d bitten it.  I deployed all my medical knowledge and suggested that the pain would go away if he stopped biting his finger.  This seemed to come as something of a surprise, but so far seems to be working.  Just call me a medical genius.



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