Hospitality week- or my rubbish-ness knows no bounds

We were very excited to participate in hospitality week because we got to go for tea at other people's houses and also because we were hosting ourselves. So we got our lists of hosts and guests on Sunday and it all looked fool proof.
Except there is something about me and paper- we just sort of do not get along an example of this would be whilst emptying my washing machine just I found a wet tissue, a not unimportant receipt and a fiver. The fiver is on the line drying out. You may wonder how I get along at work and the simple answer is A4 lever arch files and poly-pockets however at home shall we say my randomness has free reign.
So it was of  no surprise then that having remembered the list we didn't make the first evening of hospitality at all but rather we spent it in the car looking for the home of our host of course.
Now there is incompetence I grant you, but there is also conspiracy to create incompetence which is when you think you can wing it but everything conspires against you to produce a fail. So when my phone battery died making it impossible to know more than I was just three sweet miles away from my destination I was not perturbed I merely asked for directions. I did this six times to six charming if clueless individuals before realising by the clock that food was over if not Psalms too and really in order to get out of the car we would need to return home. Which we did, and I was the unpopular person in the car with no real satisfactory answers as to why we hadn't made it.
On Tuesday we were on firmer territory having just to make it to Mount. Even I know the way to Mount!
On Wednesday it was our turn to host and I had everything sussed. Having chosen the simplest  menu possible (sausage dogs followed by marshmallows) I was totally only worried about seating everybody. The solution to my seating arrangements presented itself in the form of garden furniture.
 So I was quite surprised to find myself at 6.10 panicking and praying for my sausages to cook. I started to wonder whether the open back door (beautiful weather we're having) was effecting the efficiency of my oven. So my guests started to arrive to my by now super hot-house and my sausages still weren't cooked. I briefly considered marshmallow dogs...and opened a packet of tortillas.
Finally the sausages were looking safe and I managed to serve the first tray and glare at the second. And I was just starting to feel a bit better when there was an unnaturally loud cracking sound followed by three of my guests finding themselves in a certain amount of disarray and not too little shock in a heap on the floor because the garden furniture had...collapsed.
After we had consoled everyone with a marshmallow it was time for Psalms and I think we were grateful for that and even glad to be sat on the floor. Our psalms seemed to echo our plight and teach us about our very special privilege of praise and thankfulness.  As indeed we were when we hugged our goodbyes and I easily shook off my visions of everyone half starved, racing to Cwmdu drive-thro (after all ingratitude before pride). And I was grateful, sorry but grateful when I opened the oven door to discover the second tray of perfectly cooked sausages.
The third day of hospitality was perfect of course. I knew where we were going, I wasn't cooking and I had a seat which held up. And how the Psalms spoke of our lives changed beyond our recognition, beyond our imaginings and we could almost see his love encircling us as we sat in our circle.
Of course today is the last of our hospitality meetings (for now), I'm kind of excited because I don't know the way, though my phone is fully charged, and I have double-booked myself because I forgot and although I had a memory of my list being somewhere near the washing up by the sink- it seems to have disappeared so....
to be continued....?