Peter fired up his grill, marinated some meat and stacked beer in the fridge. We brought rolls, brezen, potato salad ... and trifle! Nicely stuffed after that lot. Alex wouldn't touch the trifle. No comment.
No blood-moon to be seen until we were walking home and then a small, fuzzy, pink orb appeared behind the clouds. Less than spectacular but we can always say we saw it. Though I doubt if anyone will ever ask.