There were two parties today, a pot luck brunch (I bring the coffeecake each year) and a huge semi-showbiz-industry do.

The brunch is a small thing, mostly family friends. It's a picnic, which we in LA are fortunate to be able to do most years on January 1.

The other is also an annual thing. It's great fun being a fly on the wall, listening in as all the near-greats talk about their acquaintance with the greats. Today, there were a lot of stories flying about Vincent Price, Peter Cushing, and Christopher Lee, all of whom the assembled populace agreed were terrific guys.

The hosts of the latter (he's a TV writer, which explains the show-biz connection) are among my closest friends. She got positively weepy when I started to leave. She doesn't want us to move away, and this was likely the last time I'll see them for some months.

I only knit a few rows today, of course. One can't carry along an almost-completed sweater to work on during a crowded party, especially when one is prone to making mistakes in the design when distracted. A couple of my friends were working on socks during the party, but socks are smaller than sweaters.