So, the damn deck. Which Mr B will use to effectively quash every future sigh I make over dilapidated terraces and decrepit farmhouses. The project that taught us we are NOT good renovators. But, it’s (basically, almost) finished and it adds a whole “outdoor room” (thanks Jamie Durie) to our home. We’re focussing on the enjoyment bit after the long, long, long stressful building bit, which of course meant throwing a party. And since I’m a space cadet by 3pm, twas a brunch.
Food on offer: churros and dulce de leche that went so fast there wasn’t even a chance for a photo, some guac and chips, a super yummy and super easy apricot parfait that deserves its own post coming up, and some equally successful skewers of chorizo and prawn that gave Mr B a chance to christen his new Weber. I made a big jug of watermelon punch, plus some limey pina colada shooters for the brave. Turns out our friends are getting soft in their old age. Not many takers for shots at breakfast. Very sad state of affairs.