I´d forgotten how nice big family get togethers were. The Christmases of my childhood were filled with cousins and aunts and friends of the family and were always big and loud and action filled. I´ve missed that a bit over the last few years. So it was nice to be in the 50-odd people on the weekend who were all somehow related to DrH´s family.
The nudity wasn´t anywhere near as extensive as it could have been considering this was in the depths of the former East, home of the act of sedition against the socialist state that´s known as getting your kit off. I exposed some lily white flesh to the harshness of the German sun, but managed to not cause too much mental anguish amongst other participants. I hope.
Saturday was a christening in a 14th century church, followed by lots of cake, swimming in a chilly lake and then eating and drinking till the wee hours. Once DrH had convinced the DJ to stop playing such much-loved hits as I´ve had the time of my life and move on to more Prodigy, Toten Hosen and Die Ärzte the party really took off with several 70+ year olds up wiggling it on the dance floor with us. Even one of the 8 year olds was still grooving along at midnight. Both ends of the age spectrum certainly showed more stamina than I had.
DrH ended our evening abruptly with a sudden realisation that copious amounts of wine and beer don´t mix too well, and after a half hour conversation with toilet I managed to get him into bed. As a man who´s heavy drinking is usually restricted to sharing a shandy with me of an evening, seeing him that drunk was an amusing change. After we checked out the following morning, he put the bed up in the car and slept there for a few more hours while the rest of us went and swam some more.
Next year´s get together date has already been announced and the location is currently under discussion. Looks like England may be on the cards, but I´m pulling for Jamiaca.