. . . because I had too much Wednesday.
My house is a glorious mess. We hosted our first party since we remodeled, the first party since we've had both a dining room table and chairs, and the first Holiday party since we moved here. We purchased our condo with all the furnishings three years ago. It came with a dining room table but no chairs. This was great because, without chairs, we were never expected to host anything. We attached a net and used the table for ping pong instead.
Last year, we decided to remodel including all new wood floors. Rather than store the furniture for the duration, we sold it all and bought new stuff. The previous owner's furniture was worn and we wanted an updated look to go with our updated space. We bought dining chairs but no table. We couldn't find one that would fit the space and still be good for ping pong.
We spent six months looking for a table. During that time, we had no ping pong but we also continued to have no obligation to host anything. Luckily, we had friends who were gracious enough to include us as frequent, if not perennial, guests.
Even though we've had both table and chairs since February, the reputation persisted: We don't host.
Until last night. We invited friends and neighbors over for dinner and then a short walk to watch the Christmas Ships cruise along the Columbia River. That was the "Holiday" part. There was no gift giving. No ugly sweaters. No roasting fire. We had our measly few decorations, some holiday music in the background, and a whole lot of wine.
We invited Jimmy. We also invited Al who lives nearby. I have no idea how old Al is but if I had to guess, he's in the neighborhood of 80. We see him out walking every morning, rain or shine, and got to know him as our regular walking buddy. We invited a chef (no pressure!), a friend (our adopted daughter?) with two small children, and it was perfect: our house was made a home.
The kitchen was a littered with food, pots, and pans. The table was covered with wine glasses and coffee cups. After our wintery walk, blankets and coats were draped over every surface. We found Triscuits under tables and ground into carpet. There were dominoes dangerously dancing on glass table tops. (Our condo is more kid dangerous than friendly.) But no wine was spilled in the making of this party!
It's just the kind of mess that I don't mind. The kind that comes with warm, fuzzy feelings for being the evidence of love, messy as that is.
I slept in this morning and am slogging my way through Thursday, still in my fuzzy afterglow. I'll get over it. The Grinch isn't far away. Rain is back in the forecast. The nights are still long. But for now, everything is all right.