We had one of those great old family knees ups on Saturday. A Golden Wedding Anniversary for my Auntie Rene and Uncle Fred. I’d left Liverpool 30 odd years ago, so there was a lot of reacquainting. Rene is my mums sister, so I do see the immediate family a lot. But Uncle Fred’s? Well, we all had to be tutored first (I half expected PowerPoint or at least name labels (and why not?)). The last time I had met Ena, Kenny and Mavis, and Conny was when I was a teenager in the 1970’s
But they were up for a party. Uncle Fred was always the quietest in the family – studious, planner, maths prodigy – went into Time and Motion studies with electronics giant Plessey. Always thought work stuff was a bit overblown.
We had the usual party crews: Main room, so as not to miss Man Utd against Arsenal (no cheering from the Scouse crowd, as Man U won!). The singing and dancing in the dining room crowd – who appeared drunk before we even started, but that was just 80-year-old exuberance, I think. And the absolute stalwarts – never moving from the kitchen (or booze – not sure which had the biggest draw, really). The other two groups mingled nicely.
Michael had got caterers in, and all the sandwiches (called butties in Liverpool), and prawns with dipping sauce, plus potato skins with brie and tomato relish, arrived on trays, and did look like a lot. About half of it went, but all the beer got drunk. And so did we. Merry, giggly, full of stories and old days.
The old days reared their head though, because we weren’t allowed to leave any of the food. I suppose growing up during times of rationing makes people see food for what it is – important, expensive, and not to be wasted. So we all got sent home with a food parcel! Even if we didn’t eat it all, we had to have a go. And so it was. We made an effort, but the local seagulls also had a feast too (I know you shouldn’t – but they seemed to enjoy it). Family parties – great fun!