Tomorrow I have my Christmas party. I’ve had one ever since I moved to my present location in 1996. It’s less elaborate now than in my earlier years, but still involves decorating for Christmas, 10-12 friends, and more food than any of us need.
But that’s part of the holiday spirit–fun, and excess, and not being prudent or circumspect. I’m baking a pecan pie, and tomorrow a tomato-ricotta tart. I have smoked salmon, shrimp, cheeses, vegetables, and pate. And, needless to say, lots of wine and other drinks.
My friends are bringing appetizers and desserts. The real treat, however, is that one of them brings his guitar and we sing Christmas carols and Beatles songs. Okay, it may sound hokey, but we love it. How many chances do we all get to sing out loud? When do we get to laugh, and tell stories, and dance?
My cat is exiled to the basement until the food is gone (he can’t be trusted). Then he comes up and socializes, too. Even he feels how warm and fun it is.
It’s not that all inhibitions are loose. That’s not it at all. It’s that we love and trust one another, and this is a party where we feel warm and happy together. I love it. And I’ll do it as long as I can.
Peace out, my friends, and may you all have a happy party in your immediate future.
writinghersense 