Sunday Supper Lessons (or, guest post at Joel + Kitty)

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Hello, friends!

Today it’s my privilege to send you over to Kitty Hurdle’s blog, where I spill all of my feelings and thoughts about my growth in the area of hospitality. It’s a fitting place, since she’s rather like my online hospitality sansei.

Kitty married a friend of mine from high school, and though I think we’ve seen each other in person two times—my wedding, and a serendipitous run-in at a Chick-fil-A in Nashville—I feel I know her well through her writing, which at times is raw, hilarious, encouraging, practical, and full of the on fleek (??) things that kids say these days.

Something tells me that Kitty’s always been a natural, gracious hostess. But also she’s had years of hosting college students and organizing events; and so her blog is full of ideas to make cooking and planning for all sizes of gatherings easier and better.

My guest post will take you through the ins and outs of our year hosting Sunday Suppers, including a few recipe links and practical tips I picked up.

I hope you’ll find a useful tidbit, whether you’re wanting to have people over more, or maybe you feel kids have thrown a kink in your style, or maybe you find yourself in what I’m beginning to suspect is a near-universal dilemma: you’re an adult and you want to get some friends.

Read it here, and then do me a favor. Today is Sunday: pour a glass of wine, turn on Otis Redding, enjoy some chili (or whatever; it’s still cold here) and raise a toast to friendship, family, to the security and freedom we have to take risks and feel foolish.

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Valentine’s Changes (or, Colin Firth forever and ever, amen.)

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Looking through the archives, I see that Valentine’s Day has been one of my consistent occasions for posting something here, for some reason. The feast day to remember a saint who loved God and loved others, enough to die for that love, now serves as the calendar notch on which we hang our ever-changing notions and expectations about love.

In past years I’ve posted about:

This year, my love for MT, and her little friends at school, has manifested itself through Pinterest-inspired activities: heart braid, heart crayons, the best oatmeal coconut chocolate chip cookies.

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So the holiday has evolved quite a bit. In six words,

2007: Went line dancing, found latin lover.
2015: Heidi braids. Heart, please don’t explode.

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This week Kitty’s post (How To Host a Simple Gal-entine’s Party) reminded me of a couple instances when Captain Papa came through in grand style for his baby girl (i.e. me) before marriage and kids. In particular, one year in high school he joined me down in our basement playroom as I watched the six-hour BBC Pride and Prejudice on Valentine’s Day. (FYI, he’s not necessarily a big Austen fan.)

Funnier was the year when he sent me flowers in college. I put the two sweet planters of mini-roses on the window ledge in our sorority house kitchen. The note with the delivery read something like “Love Forever” and it sparked a srat house mystery. Because, although it wasn’t surprising that Dad would send flowers, he didn’t put his name on the note, and when I talked with Mom that day she hadn’t received her flowers yet and told me Dad didn’t send them. The romantic mystery bloomed like the delicate pink roses . . . my friends and I spent many minutes (at least) wondering who my secret admirer was. We even called the flower company to see if they could release the sender’s information. They could not! [Drama!] I can only imagine how pathetic that operator thought we were, especially since she could see that the sender and recipient shared a last name.

Whatever Valentine’s Day looks like on a given year, the bottom line question we want answered is . . . Am I loved? Am I worth it? Is there someone willing to sacrifice for me, willing to watch six-hour Pride and Prejudice with me—whether it’s my dad, my boyfriend, my girlfriends, my cat (not to mention my infant who has no choice). Watching Pride and Prejudice may or may not be a big sacrifice depending on the person who makes it, but it points to sacrifices even greater. Is there someone willing to give up everything, for me? I think the answer is Yes. And when those affectionate husbands, or cats, fail us—maybe you saw it coming—we can go back to the Love who inspired the original Valentine.

Whatever’s going on with you, I wish you much Colin Firth (or maybe Stanley Tucci) this Valentine’s Day.

P.S. To be fair, it’s also about considering whether I’ll give up my sense of taste to watch something I consider ridiculous. What’s the male equivalent of P&P?

P.P.S. I do like the new Keira Knightley P&P, but I officially endorse the 1995 BBC version. My only contention with the BBC P&P is that Lizzy is prettier than Jane, which is inaccurate.

P.P.P.S. Who wore it better?

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