I poured myself a cup of Folgers, and Lee handed over a plate of warm scones, along with a pot of Ray's homemade jam. Wow, and clotted cream! I didn't even need bacon to feel happy and satisfied with this lovely repast. When I sat down beside him at the long bar, Ray put down the paper, looked over his glasses at me, at the clock, and back at me, saying "I'm up again before you are, Sue". Thankfully Bias chose that moment to enter the kitchen to see if anyone needed anything while he was in town. No one did, and he was on his way. I waited for Ray to continue needling me, but Harry popped in to get a cup of coffee and attention was turned to him. Harry has been the Thomas gardener for longer than anyone can remember, whose main job now is tending the extensive lawn and helping Lee clear areas for planting. I liked him when we met the morning before, but his lovely heavy accent was hard for me to understand, so I had to listen carefully when he spoke at a mile a minute. No pressing matters were on the agenda for the household on Tuesday, so while Lee went off to make some phone calls, I sat and watched Mr Thomas expertly slice the beef for the special dinner he'd decided to fix in honor of Gabe's Hungarian background - goulash. He had just put the beef into the slow oven to bake when the buzzer signaled a visitor at the gate. The guys had come to finish the interior of the marquee - the ceiling, chandeliers, drapes, and carpet - an all-day job.
 As with any group of longtime friends, ours has running jokes and they are brought up often, so while there is much serious conversation, there is also much teasing and light-hearted camaraderie. We are from the most varied backgrounds imaginable, and it makes for a good mix. The conversation this morning centered on Maggie and Gabe's heroic (and insane) travels to Surrey. On Sunday night they'd been at the Moody Blues concert in Cape Cod. Monday, they flew from the Cape to Boston, Boston to Cincinnati, and Cincinnati to London. The horrors of the trip to Boston in an 8 passenger Cessna, in the fog, were described for the first of several times over the next few days. Feeling lucky and relieved to have our friends there in one piece, we did what anyone would do - got our coffee and headed for the terrace. By late afternoon, intermittent showers had moved in, and we moved with them - into the lounge, then back out to the terrace. I loved watching the birds in Surrey, many of which I'd never seen before. I don't have magpies where I live, nor do I have wild parrots, or even blue tits. My ducks live at the city park a block from my house, and though we do have herons in Ohio, I've been lucky that none have visited my pond for dinner. Once a heron finds a source of food, it returns until nothing is left - as anyone who owns an ornamental pond can attest.
 Mandarins and Mallards
As it always does, the evening seemed to fly by. We fed the ducks, fed the foxes, cleaned the kitchen, drank coffee, and talked. And talked some more. The lounge was a room brimming with happiness and friendship with never a lull in the conversation. The Party menu was discussed again, this time with Maggie and Gabe adding their approval to the gourmet names of each dish. Maggie and I were delighted to hear that Red had ordered, in addition to wine and champagne, margaritas just for us. As we learned in 2002, the only thing harder to find in the UK than proper bacon is a good margarita. Maggie and Gabe were staying at a hotel in Cobham, and left us around 10:00, with promises to return bright and early the next morning. Having traveled extensively with both of them over the years, I inwardly snickered, and outwardly smiled and nodded, giving no thought at all to my own "bright and early" shortcomings.
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