Edible Celebrations

Lis, Margaret, with their Grandmother

A Tea - Yeas - off ex-ointment  

I pulled this extraordinary note from my pocket and scratched my head.  Yes, it was in my handwriting, but what had I meant by it?  

The cogs began to whirl.  This was a special year, and a year my Aunt's family had planned to do something special.  In fact it took a whole year in the planning.

What was the celebration to be?  What about the gift?  These were challenging questions requiring much debate.  So a year in advance, we gathered in a secret location, to plan the planning process.

What to do?  My aunt was a great party planner herself.  Every year there was the village New Year do, that even in the gloom of winter, outshone the Summer Fete.  How on earth could we top that?  The first few meetings were taken up with the debate raging between a quiet 'High Tea', to a trip to Le Manoir aux Quat'Saisons with all of us in toe.

Then followed the argument about the budget.  I recalled James reporting that the last time we went to that restaurant as a family he had written his second biggest cheque, the first being for his house.

At our fourth planning meeting it was decided to put these ideas to the vote.  Was it to be a High Tea, or Raymond's Posh Nosh?

Votes Yea or Nay to the Tea?  And the Yeas have it.  

We looked again at the contributions so far pledged.  Emm.  With some considerable saving having been made on the tea, what about the present?  

The next few meeting were devoted to discussing the present.  I noted that most of the gifts we had ever given to Lis over the years were either sitting in her pantry, waiting for us to unconsciously inflict self-vitiation.  Mercifully most gifts had passed on to Oxfam years ago, and then bought back in later years, to be recycled to us again at Christmas.  

One (who shall remain nameless) rescued the situation with an excellent plan. A gift of immense worth had been shown to him whilst frequenting a dubious public house.  The gift had originally been of some enormous price, having originated  from the chiquest  of Parisian perfumeries.  We could have is for a fraction of the price.  In immaculate packaging, only the use-by date held any threat of blowing our cover.  Done,  We had our gift.

But so much planning, so much arguing, and all for nothing.   Covid19 put a stop to our fun.  No Tea, just a Zoom get together, and no substandard faulty ointment.

But wait, what have I written? I read the note out loud to myself again.  

A prophetic message for my Aunt?