So the pressure to conform and be perfect is off. Nowhere was this more clearly demonstrated that this weekend, when various good friends and family came and went.
In the olden days, with people coming for lunch, I would have been up early, emptied the dishwasher, found the right bowls, sorted the plates, laid the table, swept the kitchen floor, tidied up and generally got myself into a bit of a lather before people arrived. I wanted to create the impression that a) people were wanted and we had made a big effort and b) we were not complete slobs living in total chaos all the time.
This weekend, I didn't turn on the Barbie until everyone had arrived, let everyone help themselves out of saucepans and let Maff make the salad dressing by opening the Glory Cupboard door and waving vaguely at the shelf containing oils and vinegars. It was a pleasant experiment in pleasing myself.
In the olden days, with people coming for lunch, I would have been up early, emptied the dishwasher, found the right bowls, sorted the plates, laid the table, swept the kitchen floor, tidied up and generally got myself into a bit of a lather before people arrived. I wanted to create the impression that a) people were wanted and we had made a big effort and b) we were not complete slobs living in total chaos all the time.
This weekend, I didn't turn on the Barbie until everyone had arrived, let everyone help themselves out of saucepans and let Maff make the salad dressing by opening the Glory Cupboard door and waving vaguely at the shelf containing oils and vinegars. It was a pleasant experiment in pleasing myself.
I became the kind of hostess I have always wanted to be - relaxed, happy and spending time with my guests, outside round the table under the Mulberry tree, not my bottom emerging from the Aga with a flushed face and a look of determination that we would EAT ON TIME.
I didn't even tidy the sitting room, despite the fact I knew we would all be crammed in to watch the Men's Finals - YEAH ANDY - or rush round with freshly brewed coffee. Waving vaguely at various points round the kitchen has become my new way of entertaining and I like it.
I just hope the Fairy Blogmother can cope.
I didn't even tidy the sitting room, despite the fact I knew we would all be crammed in to watch the Men's Finals - YEAH ANDY - or rush round with freshly brewed coffee. Waving vaguely at various points round the kitchen has become my new way of entertaining and I like it.
I just hope the Fairy Blogmother can cope.
Cope, yes. But cook: no. If pointed at oils and vinegars I would come back with oils and vinegars. But I can tidy, follow chopping instructions, and learn the coffeepot!!
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