Celia and I went to a ceilidh tonight with my brother-in-law and his wife. It was held at Barnham Broom, where we’ve also been swimming three times this week. Barnham Broom is actually the name of the village nearby, but the hotel and conference centre and gym etc all go under the same name.
The evening started with a dinner: a whole hog cooked on a spit, rather like the meal we had at my son’s wedding a few years ago. The meat was very tender, and there were a number of vegetables and sauces and such to go with it. Plenty to go around in fact. (And Anchor butter again, which seems very popular over here.)
After quite some time – time enough for Celia and her brother and me to go and have a coffee in a different part of the complex – the dancing started. A rather loud but efficient band provided the music, and Celia and I joined in the dancing. All our years of learning dancing proved beneficial, as we felt quite relaxed on the floor doing various movements and routines. We even danced a waltz, and only stopped when Celia realized we were the only couple on the floor doing it.