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Monday, July 8, 2013

Throwing a Party at a Campsite

Sort of how I feel. Well, not exactly because that would require me to camp.

But I am throwing a party in the flat despite the fact that it looks like moving in day in the dorms. Worse is that I keep rediscovering that everything I usually have around for parties and preparation is on a ship. Somewhere nearing Halifax if you were wondering. Anyway, I'm baking without a cooling rack just as we've been cooking without lids to the pots while favorite recipes from cookbooks are touring the Atlantic. We were a bit aggressive in saying "everything goes!" Sweeping hand gestures I regret a bit now.

Without dust ruffles and pictures and with the addition of furniture that makes my living room look like a pricey dentist's office, the flat seems less like us. I confess to having made a small purchase or two to liven things up. And while the Mister might not yet agree, the inflatable bunny rabbit will be fantastic in our Nashville yard. If only we'd not packed the bicycle pump and could inflate it here.

I do fear that anything that tips our air shipment over weight will become part of my carry-on luggage. Or someone's. Do you think Baby Sister can manage a vintage typewriter in her tiny new pink backpack? What are the odds that I'm going to be able to buy one in the States? With a royal warrant crest? From the 1930s?! Agreed. She can consider it strength training. Good for bone density!

Anyway, this time tomorrow my home will be filled with chatty friends and lots of snacks and whether or not I've seriously procrastinated my to do list, it will be fine. By now the friends have become dear to me and they won't judge if I've not done a good dusting.

I've suggested to those who offered to bring something to bring low expectations. Seems pretty reasonable. I've lowered my own expectations in favor of enjoying the British sunshine (and lording over TN homework assignments, too -- it isn't all park all the time I tell ya!). I had plans to make iced pineapple-shaped cookies as favors. Instead I bought pencils to enclose with our change of address cards in hopes that will encourage our friends to write us soon and often.

And I hear you wondering with the table beginning to be set, where will the smalls eat their dinner?! Rest assured my culinary skills lend themselves nicely to the art of the dinner picnic. This is a derivation of my Richmond girlfriend's term "car picnic" which we've also modified into "Walton's picnic." Don't judge. It works for us.

The sentiments behind the pineapple made it to my table decor.

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