Last night, we got together for a rowdy, rompous evening of Cranium and Desserts. The preserved persimmons and popcorn weren't popular but pumpkin seeds and pizza were big hit. Although I was thinking of Late Harvest from Castello di Amorosa, we opened a bottle of Dolcino, which is, truly, delightfulness bottled in glass.
Highlight of the evening? Light, fluffy pound cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream, drizzled with chocolate cabernet sauvignon from Robert Mondavi.
Heaven.
We woke our neighbors at midnight -- possibly from Paco pounding on the wall during the charades part of Cranium. I also never knew that one could possibly sculpt Victoria's Secret lingerie from play-dough. Not in that fashion. Plus, I discovered to my chagrin that I can actually eek out a recognizable version of Over the Rainbow.
Pretty Woman has never been hummed in such a spectacular version either. Nor YMCA. And, don't laugh, but I
can spell backwards -- at three letters a minute. Oh, hippopotamus has three P's, ladies and gentlemen. Three. I cannot draw cartwheels, but I can act out kindergarten in two guesses.
A fine evening of class, elegance, and sophistication it was not. But it was so much fun making a fool of ourselves.
See these tiles on the roof of one of the castle buildings? Their shapes were formed by placing them over women's thighs. That's how they did them in those days. Imagine if we had to make tiles by hand nowadays -- shaping them over the thighs of runway models would mean disaster -- they would be so small, you might as well have a sunroof or a skylight. Now, I'm not saying that they wouldn't be usable; I'm just saying you'll need less tiles if you shaped them using my thighs or perhaps the trunk of an elephant.
