In a devastating turn of events, The Spring Fling 80s night fundraiser has been cancelled because not enough people bought tickets. Lots of people claimed to be planning to go, but they didn't front up with cold hard cash in time to give the incredibly hard working volunteers faith that it was worth their blood, sweat and sausage rolls.
There are a few things against me offering my home so we can all desperately seek Susan, get into the groove and implore our papas not to preach this Saturday night. One is a desire to stay married to Favourite Handyman. He isn't sharing my enthusiasm at all. The second is that Fionn comes home from another camp, this time cubs, that day. I'm pretty nerdy about my kids getting sufficient sleep after they stay up all night yakking in tents (they do yak endlessly; it's in their genes.). The third is the state of the house. It's currently marginal to get inside a room without standing on something. The state of the surfaces is well, pause, immune-boosting.
But Greymouth ladies and gentlemen, let's find a venue and make like the 80s soon!