Well, this ought to be interesting.


We were scheduled to head to Philly this weekend but the other day my husband announces that he'd really rather stay home and get ready for classes (which start on Wednesday) and do a few things around the house.


So I'm all ready to cancel the trip and he says, "Why don't you go on and leave the kids with me. That way you can get some alone time before classes start and things get crazy again."


It's a great offer and one I couldn't refuse. Catch you next week when I'll return with the answers to my latest batch of e-mail, including the processing time for tomatoes, the prospects of saving money with canning and why I write about my kids all the time.


See you then!

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I have decided that I no longer wish to be part of the solution. I am now, regretably, just going to have to be part of the problem.


Laurie Colwin once wrote about the process of entertaining and giving dinner parties. She said something to the effect of, "And then you get invited back, so you invite them back and then you go back and forth like ping pong balls and what you end up with is a social life."


I wish. We have lived in our current location just short of a year and a half. In this time we have given three parties and maybe half a dozen dinners. Would you like to know how many invitations we've received?


So that you don't hurt yourself on the advanced math, I'll tell you. None. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Null.


For a few weeks I've been thinking that it's because people can't stand the thought of spending an evening with us. I know it's not like having the Clintons around or anything, but are we that dull? Maybe they've heard our ostrich story one too many times, or really wish I'd buy a new sweater already or whatever. I've been beside myself with regret, thinking that if only I'd read the Post more often I'd be a more desirable guest, one with keen insight into current events and interesting anecdotes to share over the prosecco and figs. Or maybe if I got rid of that really outdated tie that my husband loves so much...


And then my sister pointed out that we haven't noticed a dearth of people willing to accept our invitations - which are actually taken up with speed and apparent enthusiasm - but rather we seem to have encountered a community where people are loath to issue their own. Perhaps this is because it's a university town and the population is fairly transient, so people don't want to invest. Who knows? All I am sure of is that I have heard over and over again that "No one entertains anymore." Well, this someone did, but she's not anymore.


It's not that I begrudge my guests their food and drink. I don't give parties only to go to them (although that's a nice benefit in theory). I do it to forge connections, to solidify friendships, to share an experience and also for the creative expression of the process itself. And although we've received copious thanks (sometimes even written), I don't do it to be thanked - although one bachelor friend sent me flowers after a party a couple years ago, a gesture I found utterly and completly charming.


I would like to see my friends and acquaintances in their natural habitats. I would like to see what's hanging on their walls and ask them how they selected that particular piece from Sotheby's or Bed Bath & Beyond or wherever. I would like to see Love in the Time of Cholera on their end table and confess that I've never been able to read it all the way through and only know it really from that John Cusack movie. I would like to try their Grandmother's Famous Soyloaf. I would like to run my hand down the sideboard they hauled in from the curb and refinished. I would like to try and brighten their evenings as they've brightened mine - to give them back that which they have given me.


Please don't think me bitter. I'm not, just sad. This fall and winter will be significantly quieter for us than the last. We're planning a lot of family cocooning time. Today I harvested five pounds of basil in preparation for freezing a few batches of pesto - rotini with pesto cream sauce is one of my favorite starters but this year, it'll be the entire dinner (along with an endive salad) in front of the fire. Just the four of us, warm and snug.

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