It was non-stop documentation all night last night, at the impromptu dinner party I threw at Caleb’s.
The idea was mine. Fortunately, given that I can’t cook, I executed none of the details. Instead, I put on my winter silk dress, arranged some pink tea roses, and lit three candles.
In the kitchen, Rikard cooked us brussel sprouts and bacon. Caleb made us NY strip steaks with blue cheese butter, and mashed potatoes. DEH cut up thyme, poured the wine, and looked the picture of chic in his Epaulet shirt and skinny jeans.
After dinner, I channeled Debbie Harry, and became the ultimate rhythm apparition…
(This is what happens when you put two blogger-friends in the same room together. Endless cross-coverage)