I live, as I have said before, in my parents' summer house due to the miserable economy. I have people over to this summer house. I make dinners. They eat them. At one of Those Tables (apparently it's quite a 'nice' table, so I am told). It's hideous. Table clothes feature prominently in my consciousness. It is a big table, not just ugly but big. In a red dining room. I feel like this would make my dinner party tomorrow a lot nicer.