What is there more kindly than the feeling between host and guest?~ Aeschylus

What is there more kindly than the feeling between host and guest?~ Aeschylus

I think I am not a very good hostess.

I used to be, when the stakes were lower. You know–when all you needed was a fully stocked bar and a few things for guests to nibble upon. The real party was always brought by the guests and all the hostess had to do was to have a well appointed apartment and quite a bit to drink.

And the willingness to clean up after. Which, if I recall correctly, could take several days. Sometimes weeks later you found the odd beer bottle or stray glass.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten better at actual dinner parties and our almost yearly (we’ve about given up the regular Halloween party in favor of having one for kids because they seem to enjoy it more) Halloween party but I don’t think I have the Saturday afternoon grill out party down yet.

Today I got nearly everything ready before hand and we had a delightful crew, though missing a couple because of illness. Somehow I feel like I didn’t do it right. Like I didn’t have enough extra stuff (what do you provide when you do this). We had chicken and beef, hotdogs and sundaes for the kids, some chips…. I was lacking in the hors d’oeuvres department. I got the plates right and the house was clean but somehow I feel like I didn’t get it right. Last week when we grilled I think we did, but I made more mistakes, argh. I’ve seen people make it seem effortless but it isn’t for me. Do you have tips? What am I not doing?

This time I made the wine punch ahead of time, it was chilled as were the kids drinks. We had a trash and recycling can. Plates were on the table and silverware and the silly glasses. food was prepped. But I didn’t do it ….with grace maybe? 


I am confused.


What is it that makes a good host or hostess?


How do you navigate the relaxed…let’s throw stuff on the grill and kids in the pool but still do things right? I think I did better by the kids than I did the adults, which when you tally things up is more important but still makes me feel…like a doof. At least Mr. J cooks some good meat.

My fugly glasses grilling with friends


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