On the Brink of ... Thanksgiving
In truth, though, I really like hosting parties. I like people to relax and eat and have a good time at my house. Life is busy, and we all deserve to be hosted rather than to host every now and then, and both my parents and my in-laws have always been welcoming hosts to Bobby and me in the past. Since we now have the space and the means to return the favor, I love to do so. (Plus, I'll admit, that it makes me really happy to see other people happy and enjoying themselves.)
So far, all has gone well. Bobby has the vegetables prepped and the turkey ready to go in the oven tomorrow morning. My ice cream is mixing as I type this, ye olde ice cream maker grinding away down the hall. I've done all of the cleaning except for the floors since the Goldens 1) shed constantly, 2) tend to track in mud if it's the least bit damp outside (and it is), and 3) tend to bring in leaves in their feathers. (Mostly Alex for the latter; Lancelot doesn't have feathers yet.) But I've learned to do the floors an hour before people are set to arrive so that they might enjoy a little while at least of looking at my house in a pristine state. Then a Golden comes in with hair, mud, leaves in the feathers ...
Of course, there have been a few small hitches. I came home today, and Alex was in the backyard--which isn't itself odd--and Lancelot was in the house. That is odd because it was very warm today, and when it's nice outside, Lance likes to be outside with his brother. Upon entering the house, Bobby warns me, "Don't let Alex in the house." Apparently, Alex rolled in some poop while playing over our neighbor Bob's house with his dogs Clint and Lily. So the one side of his ruff and behind his ear was caked with shit. Literally.
Which meant that we were bathing the dog unexpectedly this afternoon. Luckily, it was a warm day, so we could just hose him down and scrub him on the back patio.
Then, we didn't have enough dishes.
We are expecting twelve people tomorrow, and we had service for eight. We've intended to buy the extra set for service for twelve, but it's one of those things that is easy to forget about or ignore in lieu of more pressing expenses ... then we have a guest list of twelve and dishes enough to feed eight of them. Since Bobby had a half-day, he stopped at Bed, Bath & Beyond ... and they were out of our dishes. He bought some paper plates. He called to tell me. I threw a fit (boldly proclaiming ne'er to serve Thanksgiving dinner on paper), did an Internet search, and stopped at another BB&B on my way home from work, amid much rush-hour congestion, to get another box of frickin' plates.
But they had the plates, and so we now have service for twelve.
Then there was the Pie Plate Fiasco. Last Wednesday at work, we had a Thanksgiving potluck lunch, which I thought was a really nice idea, so in a fit of bona fide Dawn Felagund enthusiasm, I made two ice cream pies to bring. Keep in mind that ice cream pies are time consuming, expensive, and very difficult to transport on an hour-long commute in a car. But they are delicious, and like I said, I enjoy doing nice things for people. So I was more than happy to contribute.
The one pie was eaten at the party and the other was kept for leftovers ... or so I was told. Monday, I checked the freezer and the whole uneaten, untouched pie was still in there. That's fine. They probably forgot about it ... and it saved me from having to make another frozen pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. The next day, I bring my cooler to take my pie home, only when I return to the freezer, it's gone. Pie, pie plate, everything. Gone.
I have no idea what happened to it. I posted a letter on the freezer but no one has replied to me so far.
The thing that upsets me the most is that the pie plate was given to me by my parents. They knew that I wanted to make two pies but only had one plate, and rather than go out of my way to pick up a second plate, they gave me one of theirs. It was a really nice glass one, much more attractive to serve out of than the metal ones I have now. If someone ate the pie, I don't care. I brought it in to be eaten and enjoyed, and I'd already bought the stuff to make another one for tomorrow. That's not the issue. But if someone took my pie plate--or worse, threw it out--that pisses me off.
I told Bobby tonight that unless the plate is returned to me, I can tell you one group of people who won't get homemade ice cream anymore. Or candy. Or anything. Why should I waste two evenings and a good amount of money making something nice for people who can't even show me a modicum of respect by returning my things to me? No, they'll get cheap, store-bought crap like everyone else brings in, and I hope someone asks me why.
So I ended up short a pie plate, short a pie, and had to stop for a new plate this afternoon as well.
I suppose, in all, however, that I've been fairly fortunate so far. Everything has gone as planned. I'm not stressed. Bobby and I even went to dinner and to see Beowulf tonight, and I really look forward to tomorrow.
The ice cream maker is getting that inconsistent grumbling tone that tells me my chocolate is almost finished ...
Tomorrow's frozen treats are the traditional pumpkin ice cream pie and a German chocolate ice cream pie that I've never made before. I was going to make a frozen tiramisu cake but couldn't find crunchy lady-finger cookies.
Anyway, to all of Teh Flist who is celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow, enjoy your day, your family and your friends ... and don't eat too much! ;)