So, OK, the may day workers canape and cocktail party. Vodkatinis garnished with a minted tinned new potato. Wholemeal toast stars with red lumpfish roe. Red star cookies flavoured with vodka and caraway. Champagne Socialists (medium rough cava pinked with grenadine, given a lift with vodka and sweetened with barbie sugar sprinkles). Capitalist Pigs in Blankets. Imperialist running hot dogs. And of course, the Traditionalist -- vodka, and a potato. Depending on whether you were in the real world or the world of twitter echo, I either threw everyone out at 11.30pm or we all partied through the night then headed down to Donnington Bride where we sang the Internationale at dawn. Someone asked if we sang the original words or Billy Bragg's but to be honest there was a lot of la-laing. Practise is in order before May Day 2011.

Then, also, swisstone and ladymoonray's wedding, the only wedding I've ever been too that has featured cliffs for the guests to fall off of (amazing High Rocks in Tunbridge Wells). I escaped with a bit of a bruise and a photo of some ancient rock carvings OK, yes, a cock, and a marvellous memory of being up on top of an enormous rock just as we were called to be photographed. The bride arrived on a tiny train in a truly fabulous purple dress and I spent much time playing the try-to-remember-who's-who-in-RL-and-LJ game while fighting off period-related disaster. [small rant about tampax, service stations, and entire busload of elderly women elided for your sanity and mine] It was a lovely day, and I am so very happy for them (though not as happy as they both looked, which is as it should be!). Photos to follow, as soon as they get out of the camera.

OOooh, ooh, and here come the first of the tenovertwelvers!

it begins! wait, whut?