Last night Mrs The Millbrooker and I were invited into left side neighbour (as you look at Millbrooker Towers) Gay's garden for "a bit of a do".
This is my back view as I made an early raid on the drinks table, cutting manfully through the swathe of fellow Millbrookians and a couple of people from less civilized parts of the world - Hessenford, for example.
As hostess, Gay was to be found constantly running twixt house and upper terraces with a happy little skip in her step.
There was a terrific spread, accompanied by a seemingly endless flow of souvlaki and sausages, expertly spun over the coals and de-skewered by Michel (one of Gay and Louis' boys) for the guzzling pleasure of the assembled masses. And especially for the guzzling pleasure of one particularly large and partially sighted gentleman who might have needed no second bidding when told there was loads of meat, so "don't stint on the portions".
From a safe distance I can probably admit, without fear of too many recriminations, to having had five man-sized portions. The souvlaki was simply wonderful and cooked to perfection. I want one of those spinning barbecues; brilliant.
The light began to fade and we plonked ourselves underneath one of the gazebos as Gay's garden lighting started to come into its own.
We were joined by Graham (he of roof-clambering expertise, and a propensity to nail-gun himself to timbers), his son Jason (out of shot) and Gay's friend Angela whose claim to fame (apart from coming from Hessenford) is holding the South East Cornwall Hiding Under a Table Championship title, a skill that she was in the midst of demonstrating as I took this shot.
As the evening wore on, and I got more and more stuffed with souvlaki (mmm, mmmm, mmmmm), Dave Mashford magicked his accordion from its hiding place and entertained with some sing-alongs and a few tunes. You really can't beat a bit of home music making at a "do", in my 'umble. And when the musician's as good as Mr M, you can't go wrong. Thanks, Dave.
But Dave M wasn't the only accordionist present, André (another of Gay and Louis's progeny) gave us some excellent tunes as well. 
Mrs The Millbrooker and I had to take our leave before things drew to a close for most of the party goers; my abominable shift pattern once again ensuring that come ten thirty, I was ready to fall asleep where I stood. So homeward we stepped, closely followed by the extremely gallant Paul (from two doors up) who escorted Margaret (next door to us, other side) safely to her door at the same time.
Like I said, good neighbours; we're very fortunate indeed.
Naturally, we owe a big thank you to Gay for inviting us, for hosting brilliantly and for providing such a mountainous quantity and sublime quality of munchables (an unbeatable combination).
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