Hen's Party!

This is not an occasion where chooks gather on the range to discuss the latest prices of feed nor is it a time for baking or roasting hens in the kitchen. It is a celebration where a soon-to-be bride gathers with a group of friends and family to recognise the upcoming marriage and nuptials. As this is my first Hen's Party I am interested to observe and or participate in traditional happenings at such do's. The invitation certainly sets a precedent for me. The invitation cites that we will be attending a Mad Hatters Tea Party. I've seen Alice in Wonderland so that at least is familiar territory. Further to this, we are to partake of the Tea Party at the Watagans National Park and each of us has been asked to wear or bring our maddest hat! I have numerous hats but which to wear has proved challenging. Sunsmart; I think not, too boring. Silly, glamorous, colourful, too tricky to decide until I remembered a hat that I purchased many years ago to wear to what was to be my first ever Melbourne Cup luncheon. As it turned out luggage from incoming Canadian flight had gone astray and I found myself eating chicken on rolls in the kitchen whilst wearing my hat since we were waiting couriers to deliver the afore mentioned bags. So no real airing (wearing,) of the hat, so surely,this had to be the right occasion. Flash hat was indeed appropriate for those hosting had fresh white linen on the tables, cushioned seating, two silver candelabras, fine China, cake platters and champagne poured waiting for our arrival beneath the canopy of the trees at the Pines. The function commenced with a parade of hats that was judged by the bride-to-be. Champagne was sipped, sandwiches, cupcakes, scones, jam, cream, passionfruit cream biscuits, meringues and so much more was sampled with convivial conversation. The relaxed atmosphere and the elegant spread was seen by fellow visitors and they wondered at the focus of our celebratory activities. I guess that it not an regular occurrence to see a large group of smartly, attired ladies seated at a table dripping with delicate cuisine in such a remote location. The bus driver and his able support person made the journey to the picnic area possible for I am sure that none of us ladies wished to drive the many kilometres over rutted and dusty, body rattling loose gravel on our own.