SUMMER PARTY SATURDAY, AND SUNDAY

A summer party in a party house?

That’s what it’s made for, both season and house.

After twenty years, it finally felt right.

My family moved into this place after a discussion on blending.

We invited my mother in law to live with us.

And she accepted.

But it wasn’t a health issue of her needing us.

She was as health as she’d ever been, but her second husband had fallen to Parkinson’s disease.

The plan was us living together with the father in law in a nearby assisted living complex.

He had it pretty bad after slipping through assisted living cracks in Los Angeles.

The last place he lived down there was in a three person room where no one got out of bed very often.

It was bad, and my mum in law was riding it down with him. I say ‘mum’ since she was born and raised in England and spoke with an English accent.

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Most of my friends said, “Don’t do it.”

And they were right. For them.

Living together can be stressful. I’d met my friends’ folks.

None of them compared to my mother in law.

I can see why they’d decline living with anyone. Some of them were a surprise for being married.

Summer Party Preparation

We’d had parties together.

Thanksgiving dinners, Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, the works.

And it all takes time.

Getting the house ready with the ladies was different than I’d normally do.

First off, I wouldn’t host a party if I didn’t have to. That’s my line, but I dive into it when it’s inevitable.

Besides, it seemed like something was missing for earlier gatherings.

I saw the ladies’ friends, the kids, but no one I invited because I didn’t invite anyone.

My dudes are my dudes and I don’t need to seem them pull out their special party manners and turn into the maitre d from hell.

That’s my job. Or my wife’s. We’ve got it covered.

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Speaking of wife, and I will since she doesn’t read her hubby’s little blog thing. She is a powerhouse.

Which I should have know since her mother was raised the English way. On top of that, mummy also went to college and got a degree in domestic science.

The woman could make anything, cook anything, fix anything.

Her daughter carries many of the same traits.

We don’t always agree which ones.

My party plan: Get a load of beer, tune guitars, and turn up amps.

Her party plan: Map the house, research foods, host taste testing, make assignment plans.

My party plan for my wife: Put on a Tina Turner dress, sing and dance to Proud Mary.

Wife’s response: No.

Me: You’d be great. It would be fun. You could do it nice. And easy.

Wife: That’s not how it’s done.

She’s right, that’s now how it’s done.

How To Do A Summer Party House Proud

Set a room up this way.

Or this way:

Or, this way:

The main thing is matching enough chairs to number of guests.

And don’t crowd the tables too much.

Does everything have to match? Sure, if you’re a catering company.

The main thing about a summer party on a too hot day is flexibility.

Make an outside setting and an inside setting and you can’t go wrong.

Finding The Happy Medium

As time marches on, things change, like the older people in our lives passing on.

I enjoyed my mother in laws party plans because they felt like a living tradition.

My wife has picked up where her mom left off. She hosts regular gatherings of her high school girlfriends over long weekends.

They are a treasure, a time together I look forward to.

This time around was special in another way.

Saturday was a bridal shower for the next G to climb onboard. She will be a great addition to the pack, ready to pitch in and do what needs doing.

I haven’t mentioned the possibility of doing Proud Mary. Yet.

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Sunday included some of the same party animals for a low key family reunion.

No big deal, right? Happens all the time.

But it wasn’t low key for me.

Nearly a year ago I spent the night in a local ICU.

Laying in hospital bed overnight with staff checking in on schedule, I had thoughts on what would make it all worthwhile.

It would be worth it if I could somehow snare brothers and sisters, cousins and nieces, all together for one day.

Well, Sunday was that day. A happy day. One of the best of days.

We planned the impossible and pulled it off.

With my people in the house, it finally felt like a home.

If no one else steps up, I’m doing Proud Mary to celebrate.

It’ll be better with back up singers and dancers.

Anyone?