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But Not the Hippopotamus
and other strange things
I used to really wig out about entertaining.
My husband is an entertainer. Me? Well, I like to feed people, but prior to my relationship with my main man I mostly did that by taking goods into work, to a play, to choir, ect. My parents never had parties, be it big holiday bashes or small dinners with friends. In fact, I don't think they even HAD many friends. Anyhow, the only entertaining I saw done as a child were the extended family holiday get togethers. So, I guess, when I started helping out hubby's parties (even before we were married) it was my grandmother that stood out as my main roll model. She regularly fed twelve adults and up to six or seven grandkids back in the day. There are more grandkids now, but she prefers us to spread our visits out these days instead of all coming at once. I can't imagine why.
At any given Christmas gathering there was always a large spread of handmade candies: buckeyes, chocolate creams, these praline-graham cracker things, chocolate covered peanut raisin clusters, caramals and more. These sat out on a coffe table usually. Then there would be the yeast doughnuts from scratch, quite a production and a recipe I now have and hope to try this year. And of course there was a big meal, too. Turkey, gravy, dressing, multiple casseroles, mashed potatos, from scratch rolls and more. And pies. Because those candies weren't for dessert, they were just sort of there. Hubby now jokes that I am genetically predispositioned to cook for an enormous family. Maybe. Or maybe I just need to scale back the hand-me down recipes a little.
Okay, I got off topic there. My point is that I had never hosted a party before I moved to this town twelve years ago. The first few that I was responsible for left me in a state that might be called an anxiety attack by some. Around here it was just referred to as wigging out. As in "don't wig out, honey, it's just our friends" a concept that always had trouble penetrating my brain at that point. After ten years I've calmed down quite a bit. Which is why I'm not worried about sitting on my tookus blogging thirty minutes before four other couples and their kids descend on my house for dinner. At least three of them are couples I don't even know that well, which would have left my introverted self in a cold sweat not so long ago.
I've come a long way, baby.
By the way, if you're hungry this weekend stop on by. I think sort of accidently made enough chili to feed about thirty people. You can choose between regular beef or white chicken. There's brownies, too. And pumpkin roll. And chips and salsa. My grandmother would be proud.
But I digress again: they'll be here soon, and I still need to dust.
My husband is an entertainer. Me? Well, I like to feed people, but prior to my relationship with my main man I mostly did that by taking goods into work, to a play, to choir, ect. My parents never had parties, be it big holiday bashes or small dinners with friends. In fact, I don't think they even HAD many friends. Anyhow, the only entertaining I saw done as a child were the extended family holiday get togethers. So, I guess, when I started helping out hubby's parties (even before we were married) it was my grandmother that stood out as my main roll model. She regularly fed twelve adults and up to six or seven grandkids back in the day. There are more grandkids now, but she prefers us to spread our visits out these days instead of all coming at once. I can't imagine why.
At any given Christmas gathering there was always a large spread of handmade candies: buckeyes, chocolate creams, these praline-graham cracker things, chocolate covered peanut raisin clusters, caramals and more. These sat out on a coffe table usually. Then there would be the yeast doughnuts from scratch, quite a production and a recipe I now have and hope to try this year. And of course there was a big meal, too. Turkey, gravy, dressing, multiple casseroles, mashed potatos, from scratch rolls and more. And pies. Because those candies weren't for dessert, they were just sort of there. Hubby now jokes that I am genetically predispositioned to cook for an enormous family. Maybe. Or maybe I just need to scale back the hand-me down recipes a little.
Okay, I got off topic there. My point is that I had never hosted a party before I moved to this town twelve years ago. The first few that I was responsible for left me in a state that might be called an anxiety attack by some. Around here it was just referred to as wigging out. As in "don't wig out, honey, it's just our friends" a concept that always had trouble penetrating my brain at that point. After ten years I've calmed down quite a bit. Which is why I'm not worried about sitting on my tookus blogging thirty minutes before four other couples and their kids descend on my house for dinner. At least three of them are couples I don't even know that well, which would have left my introverted self in a cold sweat not so long ago.
I've come a long way, baby.
By the way, if you're hungry this weekend stop on by. I think sort of accidently made enough chili to feed about thirty people. You can choose between regular beef or white chicken. There's brownies, too. And pumpkin roll. And chips and salsa. My grandmother would be proud.
But I digress again: they'll be here soon, and I still need to dust.