The party

I have eleven ten minutes before switching off the computers at 9pm (well, I might allow myself a small amount of leeway) in which to write about this year's New Year's Eve festivities.

The party was very enjoyable, low-keyed and friendly, almost like "family" but without the generational dynamics and barely-repressed hostility. Based on this gathering, the state of matrimony is in very poor shape in Germany: all but two of us were singles, and the only active pair of the evening had met at Chirpy's birthday party that autumn - and both of them had children by previous marriages. (Actually that's not true, Chirpy's son and Best Friend's daughter, who joined us for the first dinner then disappeared, are "an item.")

We ate well and drank in moderation, danced like untamed gazelles (© P.G.Wodehouse) to the hits of our youth (Chic, Sister Sledge, Hot Chocolate), then did it all again after midnight with a second dinner. I wound up washing dishes and talking about the state of the world at 4am with another non-sleeper, a fine and fitting start to a new year (Chirpy and the other guests having retired).

2006 began with a leisurely breakfast and a long walk by the river, in the shadow of the old city walls.

Chirpy's tale is quite sad, she was at the seminar to come to terms with being deserted by her husband after 28 years together. Say that again, readers: twenty-eight years. They were high-school sweethearts, he fell into a midlife crisis and feared that he would miss out on something or other by remaining with her.

The question on your lips and mine is, of course: "Flower or potato?" I don't know, at this early stage of sprouting it's neither one thing nor the other. I am trying not to think about this but simply to accept it and live it and see what happens.

Today's Song On Infinite Repeat is Uncertain Smile by The The, from their 1983 album Soul Mining; just for the sake of Jools Holland's marvellous piano solo, the final 3'30" of a six-minute song.

And now it's 23:01, and I shall kick my own foolish butt to bed.