I wish you hadn't told me that...

Today would have been a lazy Sunday - time to recover from the previous evening's escapades - had we not impulsively decided to redecorate the living room. More on that later. Anyway, I'm not recovering from last night in the alcohol sense (although there was alcohol involved, but mercifully my tongue was not loosened sufficiently by it to make a spectacle of myself), more recoiling in horror at what was disclosed to me. Things I will not repeat. Ever. Things people had no business telling me and I may well spend a lifetime trying to shake the imagery out of my head. You see, I attended a family party. Now, family parties can be civilised affairs. Admittedly, something will usually happen as most family get-togethers are celebratory situations. The drunken uncle at the wedding who insists you dance to Come on Eileen with him; the old Gran whose teeth fall out after too many sherries at the Christening; or whatever.

Last night's soiree started out civilised. Then the drinks flowed and I had nowhere to hide. It was a housewarming/birthday joint party and the first time many family members had all been in the same room for quite some time. Lots to catch up on. I just didn't expect to catch up in so much detail. I'm quite saddened that I've reached that certain age where the elders are comfortable to tell x-rated tales in front of me. I'd have preferred to remain an innocent. I don't mind hearing about a second cousin once removed who has left his wife, or the misdemeanours of another distant relative. However, the full graphic glory of said cousin's, er, marital relations and the carnal penchants of the another is something I need not know, thank you. And hearing my mother dearest and my aunt using profanities was something I was not at all prepared for. Good grief. They'd have washed my mouth out with soap had I used such language.

So, yes. Somewhat spontaneously, we've decided to decorate. And miracle of miracles, so far have agreed on everything straight up. Job one is re-hauling the lounge - painting the walls, new lamps, sofas - bells and whistles. This room was relatively untouched when we moved in, and it's high time we put our own stamp on things. We've been staring at white walls for over a year. The down side is DIY shops - soul sucking places. You may as well move into one when you're redecorating - you go to all the trouble of using paint charts and swatches and everything, get home and realise you've forgotten the brushes. I'm consequently going to be broke until about July now thanks to this home make-over, but at least my thoughts are occupied with paint colours instead of the disturbing images planted there by my kith and kin.