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Ah, but aren't these parties difficult to organize? I considered a White Horse Inn party, but as my character is currently unconscious, that's just out of the question. I've already had a formal party, a movie party, as well as a few random parties, so now, I've decided to replicate the parties I throw most often: completely informal and involving cookies.
The location: the creek-side corner of the field beyond my home. I would invite you all in, of course, but my puppy is rather anti-social. And big. And so I invite you all to bring your bathing suits and sunblock, because we will be outdoors in the sun.
The hostess of the party, me, is most likely to be found sitting on the small gravel "island" mid-creek, with her feet dangling in the water. Eating cookies and drinking lemonade, I will no doubt be carrying on conversation with the phantom, because as Eddy once said, where one of us is, the other soon follows, just to see what new entertainment shall arise. Down the creek a little ways, informing us to "Hush! You're scaring the fish!" are The Saucepan Man and Gollum. Reclining against the grassy bank, Saucie is lazily smokes a pipe and occasionally sips his iced tea. Gollum stands mid-creek, slathered in SPF 100 sunblock and wearing aviators, arched uncomfortably over the water, trying madly not to cast his shadow over the nervous fishes. Sitting daintily on a blanket on the field's edge is Arwen, a large floppy (but that's not to say unlovely) hat casting shadow over her delicate skin. She carries on a quiet (but that's not to say unwelcoming) conversation with Goldberry, who is sitting comfortably amongst the reeds on the water's edge.
After a few lazy hours of fishing and relaxing, the meal will consist of the few fish that Saucie spirited away from Gollum, nicely seared over the small fire that we, against all odds, managed to light on the neat little island that has been my perch most of the afternoon. Seasoned with wild herbs, the fish turns out most excellent, dispite the hostess's dislike for seafood. The phantom, witty as ever, reminds the hostess that the fish was caught in a creek, not a sea. Complementing the simple meal are plump summer berries, found just off the edge of the trail. Unhurried conversation presides over the meal.
Discussion includes Goldberry's origin, the weather (and what to do about it on rainy days), Korprat-loyers, geography, underground reservoirs, and needle-work.
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