Well, after a genteel stagger-night (I was designated driver, TG. I'm a failure to the drinking classes, and so is Pads. It's a control freak thing, I think) we got in around midnight from Peter's last night (after the pub closed on us), and returned to our rather direly 'loo straightened circumstances. Which was hard for for a man in fairy-wings and a ball and chain. Today the honey-sucker came and at least provided us with relief, with many a disgusting glurpeling noises and delightful scents to help the washing (hastily removed from the line).
And now... frantic food preparation (Barbs saying that no, I CAN'T just feed all 70. Huh.)