Last night was my very good friend Arabella Anderson-Braidwood’s twenty-first birthday celebration, unfortunately timed for the evening before my last exam of the year (9:30 this morning). In the spirit of self-sacrifice, I attended the soirée nonetheless, which, owing to Bella’s generosity, raised funds for the newest Maggie’s Cancer Caring Centre in London.
The evening was supposed to start with a champagne reception on Castle Sands but early in the day Mother Nature had seen fit to show us naught but her inclement side, and thus the reception was moved to the Common Room of Canmore, the Catholic Chaplaincy on the Scores. True to form, the skies cleared perfectly just before the start of the reception. Shame, would’ve been brilliant on the beach, but Canmore was cracking anyhow.
The birthday girl with her former flatmate Nicole Zarafonetis and the one and only Oliver Jackson Hutt.
Rebecka Ramos Winell with Margaret Breed.
Stefano and Marco investigate Rebecka’s leavers book in the hallway…
… while J.E.B. exudes the usual charm and wit. Last Wednesday in the Mess, J.E.B. taught me how to open a bottle of champagne with a cavalry sword.
Ed also exhibited what amounts to the St Andrews version of the latest trend: “Ban the Ban” wristbands against the hunting ban which apparently you can pick up from the CA.
As mentioned, the skies cleared wonderfully so we made our way from Canmore to dinner at the restaurant of the Byre Theatre unsullied by percipitation. Hmmm… haven’t we seen this before?
Bella gave a little speech with her usual alacrity and wit.
Mr. Andrew Ogletree, who went to Green Farms with Miss Maggie Moore (three photos up) and the son of my cardiologist, Dr. Snyder.
No one says “Don’t take that photo!” like Maria Bramble.
Maria, Clare, and Bella chatting.