Botticelli bums

I promised Ricardo before we left the UK that I wouldn't complain about the heat no matter how hot it got....boy it's really been tested, and yes I'm afraid I have complained.
We went to the beach on the hottest day of the hottest year on New Years Eve, it ended up getting to 41 degrees (which is 105.8 Fahrenheit). Too hot to even think about walking across the sand to get in the water until about 5.30 pm. Even then you had to run before you got blisters.
We did have the most amazing New years Eve though.
Every year for the last 41 years the Macleans have had a party at a place called Shoreham. I've never managed to go but this year we made it. It exceeded all expectations.........
you had to walk through a painted canvas of a gypsy caravan to enter the party. Once inside there was a bower of fairy lights leading to a cleared area with a chandelier made of black irrrigation pipe, a mirror ball, a pine tree, paper lanterns and a myriad of flashing silver bulbs, it must have been 20 feet across.
Two tables had been set up outside that must have been 10 feet long and 4 inch thick Douglas fir slapped together for the night. People were right into it, so keen to have a good time. Here's a picture of Rebecca's bum wiggling to the beat of the Gypsy band that played for hours.
Speaking of Bums here is a grand pic of my buddy Jase showing us his best asset.
Ricardo got to sing along with his buddy George Washingmachine.
What better way to spend New years Eve than singing in a heatwave. Not a tropical one but nevertheless...here I bring you the Shoreham sisters.