In those years when Twelfth Night falls on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday I have a Twelfth Night party. I like the idea of Christmas celebrations running from St. Nicholas (December 6th) to Epiphany/Twelfth Night/Old Christmas Day (January 6th). I like the idea of Christmas ending with a bang rather than the whimper of just taking down the decorations and muttering 'Well, that's over for another year'. Epiphany deserves better than that. Tradition tells us that it was on that day the Magi/Wise Men/Three Kings came to Jesus bearing gifts, the prayer book calls it The Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, and most people seem to ignore this very special day. Today there was just one communion service within our group of parishes, and there were just six of us in church this morning. OK, 11.30 is not the most convenient time for a service, and there is a very nasty cold doing the rounds, but that bad . . . !?!

So, we zoomed home at 12.30 to put the finishing touches to the food for our lunch party, and the first guests turned up just before one. I was expecting about forty people - never quite sure how many because there are always a few who don't RSVP either way - but four croaky phonecalls brought the numbers down to the middle thirties which is probably enough on a day when it is too cold for the party to spill out into the garden. It was a real mix of people with an age range of eighty-six years from the youngest guest to the oldest, and surprisingly an overlap of only about half-a-dozen people with my last Twelfth Night party two years ago. (I didn't have one last year since my father has a limited tolerance for giving parties and we had pulled out all the stops for his 'surprise' eightieth birthday party.) I had opted for a lunch party in the hope that father's oldest friends (some of whom don't do night-time driving anymore) would come, but that bit didn't quite work out. (We will get Bill, Cyril and Vic - plus, of course, Norah, Luise and Kath - all here at the same time one day D.V.)

It's January so hot food was the order of the day, so I did big pots of peasant food - Hot Pot, Penne with a tomato and bacon sauce my mother was taught in Nice but which originates in Milan, Mrs. Hammond's Beef Curry, Isabel's Sausage Casserole, and Mushroom Risotto - in other words dishes which are easy to prepare in advance, which I have cooked so often I could do probably make them in my sleep, and none of which demand split second timing. I did my preparation yesterday. The puddings were cold - trifles, apple pie, Stollen, Lincolnshire Plum Loaf and cheese, and - courtesy of our guests - Pavlova and Cheese Cake. I approve of guests who bring things to parties.

Mostly, of course it is wine that they bring, and (as usual) we have ended with more and better wine than we started with since so many people bring a bottle and then, because they are driving, drink one small glass of whatever plonk is open before sticking to fruit juice or coffee for the rest of the party. Our friends are nothing if not responsible.

Tomorrow is a Swallow Book Worms evening and is going to half party and half meeting.