Last fall there was a surprise party for a friend of ours.  As we were leaving, Woody said in a mournful voice that nobody had ever given him a surprise birthday party.  I decided on the spot that I would do so for his next birthday.  It’s Tuesday but that day I have a medical appointment and he has his interview program on local public radio.  So I persuaded him to celebrate on Saturday, Now before our friends of the previous party left for Puerto Rico, I asked them if we could have the party for Woody in their house, which is much larger and much grander than ours.  We couldn’t have it here in any event and make it a surprise. I will never do this again.  We give many parties and I always do most of the work.  But a surprise party is more work than I imagined.  First I had to assign or request food from all twenty-three participants, since if I did that much cooking, he would know something was up. I had to follow up with each of them to make sure everything was clear – a lot of micromanaging to make sure there were not 20 desserts and no entrees or salads or appetizers..  Another friend, Peter, with whom I serve on the Friends of the Council on Aging, contacted a local restaurant, PJ’s, just a short distance from Lois & Ramon’s. They don’t open till next Thursday, so they agreed people could park there so the sea of cars would not tip Woody off. While he was out of the house Thursday, I roasted a bottom round roast that I had thawed, hidden in the washing machine where he would never look or go near.. Then I called our friend Dale to come and get it.  I couldn’t reach him, left a message and he called back a mere twenty minutes before I was expecting Woody home.  I fetched the cooked roast out of the washing  machine where I had put it back to hide it, he rushed over, I met him halfway down the drive and he took the roast off to slice it before the party.  Woody arrived less than five minutes later.  But Dale and the roast were safely gone. I had a fight with Woody several weeks ago when he thought I was buying far too many party goods – paper plates, etc.  Today I loaded them up in a bag and gave them to my friend Martha along with wine.  She took them to Ramon & Lois’s. They had gotten back late last night from Puerto Rico with their two dogs.  Then Martha and I went off to Hyannis to Trader Joe’s where we got flowers for the party and many goodies.  We dropped them at Lois and Ramon’s.  I pretended to Woody we had gone out to lunch in Orleans.  I actually never got to eat lunch. 

Well, the party was last night and Woody was indeed completely surprised, speechless.  I think it meant a lot to him. The food was great, plenty of wine and booze and good sodas, and great company.  I told people firmly not to bring gifts, but some people did anyhow.  He still can’t believe I organized it all and pulled it off so that he never suspected for a minute what was going to happen.  I am very glad that it meant so much to him – he’s still in a state of semi-shock – and also that it’s finally over.  The only ones who did not enjoy the party were Merlin and Gwen, Lois & Ramon’s spaniels, who were locked up for the party, able to smell all the good  food but getting none of it.  When they were let out when almost everyone had gone but us, Lois, Ramon & Martha, I gave Merlin the last bit of roast beef [he’s the father of Gwen and much older.] He said that would like more, please, but there wasn’t any left.