After-Party Home Stretch

This was our road to town on Sunday. There was enough snow to be beautiful but not enough to make driving treacherous (in our township, at least). I'd been in a tizzy at home on Saturday evening. We will not have enough cookies. No, there will be way too many. Not enough, too many, not enough, too many. ("Food anxiety" was the knowing diagnosis of one friend in whom I confided. Apparently I'm not the only one who experiences it.) Back and forth went my monkey mind all night, unable to settle on one foolish worry or the other. Everything turned out fine.

David took me to town early. Things to do! Clearing snow from the door, sprinkling melting particles (what on earth are they, if not salt?), arranging chairs and cookies and mixing the punch. There were plenty of cookies, as it turned out—more than I would have needed but nothing like mountains of unwanted and rejected refreshments, though there are plenty of homemade gingersnaps left and even some of the yummy butterscotch bars, my first try on those and a big success, if I do say so myself.


Ben Wetherbee came early to set up, also. His guitar music was perfect for the occasion. He made my day and made the party! Whose brilliant idea was it, anyway, to have him entertain? During most of the open house, there was a nice crowd at his end of the room. David kept telling everyone, "That guitar he's playing, he made himself."

A late addition to the scene was a table of beautiful scarves from Flying Cat Beads.


Alice enjoyed showing and selling her wares, and people loved the scarves.


Plenty of people showed up. They loved the music. They ate cookies. They visited and browsed and talked and laughed, and many bought books. It was good to have so many old friends and new under the roof at the same time, and I loved introducing to each other people with lots in common who somehow hadn’t met before.






The only aspect of the event that didn’t get any action whatsoever was the free gift wrap. No one availed themselves of wrapping paper or tags. David told me later that he thought the artful arrangement of supplies might have kept people from wanting to “mess it up,” but at least one buyer admitted she had found a gift for herself (I don't think she was the only one, either), so that didn’t need wrapping. At any rate, I’ll leave the paper-and-tag table as is for the next four days. After all, we could still have last-minute shoppers wandering in who would be happy to wrap their purchases before taking them home to put under the tree. And maybe I’ll put a plate of cookies on the wrapping table, too. Sweeten the deal, as it were.

It was wonderful having so many friends come to the party! Wish all my friends and family could have been there!