Last Saturday evening, me, Mr Dunnit and LLJan, her gorgeous Mr and a Master went to a field in the Pewsey Vale. Like you do. And there, alongside the fast flowing stream that is the Avon, we spotted Morti, Mr B and L'il Miss B. They were not difficult to spot you understand. Their tent is a mini marquee in the style of a big top. It was stripey and wonderful. We gals had met, but the boys hadn't really, and so they had to take it on trust that with the crafty/blogging thing between us women, there would be enough in common for a nice evening. As nobody got roaring drunk and misbehaved to the point of not being allowed back, I think it fair to say that we had enough in common. Well, we laughed - a lot and talked until it was so dark even the bats wouldn't come out to play, so presumably that qualifies as a successful get together! I think (crass generalisation coming up...) women can most often find something that can create a conversation even if it's only out of good manners, but men are less good at that, they don't have the old 'noblesse oblige' gene - and then there are awkward silences. Well, there were none on Saturday, glad to say. I learned loads about Morti and Mr B (nothing, so far, that could be used against them) - really on paper we do have little in common, but it's also the paper that brought us to meeting - scrapbook paper of course. Which means we have everything in common, huh. Oh and I've just remembered there was one brief moment when I was silent...watching Mr B prepare to juggle with glow sticks...honestly the anticipation was quite marvellous. As indeed, was the sight of three glow sticks travelling through the dark to land with accomplished grace at his feet, on the table and even on top of a dog! Delighted to report that Mr B was laughing as hard as we were. Friends. How cool.