Wednesday night was the party of the season at the Fairlawn Hotel. Mrs Smith, the owner and manager of the hotel since waaaaay, back, turned 90 on Wednesday, and no effort was spared on the celebration. All she wanted was a toy boy, and whether she got one I can't say. She did enjoy "juicy kisses" from your correspondent, who enjoyed them too! The evening started with the corniest magician you can imagine, and yet it was funny and engaging. He did a particularly amazing stunt that involved a box with a door on one side being set over an assistant's head, which, after opening this door to show the man's face inside it, was run through with a dozen or two fakey-looking knives, to exaggerated gasps from the crowd. To everyone's horror, he opened the door to reveal a mass of criss-crossed knives where the assistant's face should have been. The door was closed, the knives dramatically removed one by one, and the box was lifted. And there was the assistant's remarkably bloodless head, firmly attached to his neck. What a hoot.
Then we had a very nice speech from Jennie Fowler, Mrs Smith's daughter, into which Mrs Smith interjected her saucy commentary. Our girls, Kira, Chelsea and Caitlin, sang an a capella medley of "Isn't She Lovely" and "Happy Birthday," which was beautiful and delightful, and had everyone enchanted at how wonderful they were to serenade Mrs Smith. Then the band fired up, and we all realized that nobody there needed even half an excuse to get to the dance floor. For a mature crowd, these old English ladies had some moves! The dancing went on nearly non-stop until the band quit, hours later. The staff was eventually pulled onto the floor, too, and danced along with us. I think the liquor cabinet was bare by the end. To our amazement, all of these dancing crazies were there at breakfast, none the worse for wear. I'll admit it took me some time to revive. And Mrs Smith, 90 years young, stayed for the whole party, and had this toy boy's undivided attention for a while to boot.