Finally got all the trash picked up, dishes cleaned, and food put away. Lucy is showing a little life if I poke her in the belly. Lyman still claims to have a loss of memory from the trauma of marrying again nine years ago. He had a terrible amnesia that entailed forgetting how to use a vacuum, dishwasher, washer, dryer, mop, or even dust cloth. Though that was nine years ago, he only has infrequent recollection. Sad, indeed. But the boy can still cook up a storm.

This party was in honor of the people who have been good friends to our marriage, which commenced on January 13, 1994. It has been a yearly tradition since then. I was reading an article on etiquette offered by Nick Denton a few months ago, which said you should never give a party for your birthday or anniversary. It looks like a plea for gifts. Oh, shut up. My friends know that I give the party for all of us. Down south we call that a celebration. We have about a half dozen birthdays and first meetings and marriages between us. This year we ran a little late and got Valentine's Day, too.

Had you come, you would have turned north at the Old Courthouse and driven several blocks up the street to our house. This is a neighborhood that was built in the late fifties and early sixties with a bunch of custom-built ranch houses, except for the the really pretty two-story New Orleans replica next door, on a street lined with live oaks that grow like giants down here, even in so short a time.

We lost the party for a couple of years while we renovated our house. We ripped out walls and installed a fireplace, expanded the kitchen, put down a pretty teak floor, and basically made the interior unrecognizable. It was done with thoughts of this group in mind. How can I make my guests more comfortable? What do I want this house to do?

Of course, down here everyone is too kind, but whatever we thought to do, we did it, according to reports.

You would have been with a diverse group: oil geologists, restaurant owners, a carpenter, an earth science teacher, a gift shop owner, an ex-bank teller, a legal secretary, a couple of high-powered salesmen, an off-shore derrick supervisor, a couple of housewives, an accountant or two, and that sleazy couple -- a lawyer and a journalist -- but that's us, so bite your tongue.

Because we saved all that money on diamonds for me (I wear a silver band from the French Market in New Orleans that cost $5) we could turn to our Viking stove and run a course of food. It was good. First your grilled chicken wings, then crawfish pies, then crab ravioli with cream sauce. We had red beans and rice left from the night before. Lyman did the wings, the crawfish pies. I did the ravioli. We had finger foods scattered around the house. We do like to have some odd food about the house. Last year it was coon and sweet potatoes. This year it was kangaroo sticks. You, too, can order the equivalent of Slim Jims made with the dominant ingredient of kangaroo. Guests thought we were kidding until we showed them the label. I find them tasty and am glad we have some left over.

Our recent widow didn't show after all. She's not ready, quite, and southern etiquette dictates that she shouldn't have shown at all for several months. She's among the women I love and I'll see if I can do something for her a little later.

We did have the niece, though. Her parents are in Atlanta and she is a high-school student at All Saints in Vicksburg, I think. I don't know why she is separated from her parents, but I suspect I'll find out soon. She was on top-notch behavior, so I can't tell. No visible piercings or tattoos or ugly speech. Though come to think of it, she did have a belly. Never mind.

I stay so busy during one of these affairs that I don't get much time with my guests. I did get to ask my two military mothers what they thought of the war. Edward is a nuclear engineer assigned to a submarine in Hawaii. His mother is a Republican and said go get'em. Robbie is a young (by, now, I'd say about 32) career Air Force guy stationed right now in Oman. He married not too long ago and his wife is stationed in Saudi. Cheryl says he just wants them to decide what to do and get it over with.

There was a lot of cheer and laughter and the meeting of friends who haven't seen each other in a while.

We're thinking of arranging a pot luck or something in the summer. We don't see each other enough.

Lyman says if we ever build a house, it will have a bedroom, a bathroom, and a 40 by 40 foot kitchen. Still can't keep'em out of the way.