We planned this shindig at the beginning of summer,
imagining lots of great food, a large beer selection, and of course – no party
is complete without margaritas. Realizing that we’d never get an in-ground pool
installed before the cookout, we planned volleyball and horseshoes. Todd was,
like, overly anxious and wanted to pin down a date – but, like a reluctant
bride, I kept putting it off.
I love a good party like anyone, but throwing my own is a
daunting task. You’d think I’d be good at it since I’m “in the business,” but I
am hopelessly insecure about my ability to do this in my home. The preparations
began at least a week ahead – we made several grocery runs and stops at the
liquor stores to stock up, and I began feverishly weeding the front “gardens” –
I use that term loosely because this year we only just began cleaning it up and
planting a couple of things and …ran out of mulch. I hoped no one noticed.
Todd was busting tail to finish up the apartment (details
will be posted on the sister blog at some point) so that it could be used
during the party as well. I cleaned the bathroom, hung a shower curtain to hide
the tub (which I didn’t have time to blitz), and placed a hotel soap and a hand
towel on the sink. There were a couple of extra patio chairs that needed
painting and Todd enlisted Nephew for this task, and they moved my old grill
(which, btw, desperately needs to be taken apart and put back together as it
looks like it’s teetering on the edge of collapse) up next to Todd’s grill (the
joy of second marriages – sometimes you end up with 2 of everything).
The rec room still looked a wreck – since we hadn’t done much with it while the apartment took
center stage. The day before the party I was racing around cleaning up the main
floor of the house and the rec room was nagging at me like an annoying little
flea. It needed dusting, an overall cleanup, and I implored Nephew (who lives
in one of the bedrooms downstairs) to please keep the bathroom door closed. The
bathroom downstairs requires a complete gutting and I wanted no one to see it. On the morning of the party
I still hadn’t even touched the rec room, and I figured eh, no one is going to go down there anyway. I was wrong. My
sincerest apologies to those guests who saw it, and yes – we are a mess.
The food was in a constant state of preparation… Todd was
grilling chicken, burgers, and brats and I was cutting fruit as the guests were
arriving. We had made pulled pork and Todd’s cousin brought buffalo chicken
meatballs which were awesome and I am still
waiting for the recipe she promised. The chafers from the restaurant
arrived an hour after the party started with Andy, who had made the most killer
mac and cheese known to man. My mom brought her award-winning potato salad –
served in a gorgeous antique bowl that belonged to “uncle” Richard and told me
it was mine! - and a plate of heirloom
tomatoes and mozzarella. I made white chocolate cheesecake and chocolate cake,
Aunt Marilyn brought Todd’s favorite apple pie, and several people brought
chocolate chip cookies and other homemade goodies.
The house was soon bustling with people and my brother took
over grilling for Todd because he “loves to grill and he’s really good at it,”
according to dad, who also failed to mention that those grilling skills become
largely compromised after a few cocktails. My apologies to anyone who ordered a
medium rare and got charred brick. Where Todd was at this point I have no idea…
it was very much like our wedding, where we saw each other when it began but
several hours later I wondered what he was wearing. I love to float around and
chat with everyone but – also like our wedding – I know I didn’t get to talk to
everyone I wanted to.
I finally sat down with my family outside about 3 hours in
to have a bite to eat, and good thing too, since I hadn’t eaten at all that day
and was on margarita #2. I was careful not to drink too early, as we had
invited our neighbors and they haven’t seen me drunk yet and I’m still trying
to maintain a clean image (dirty rec room notwithstanding). Anyway, I sat down
with my family and noticed some black crusty things on my aunt’s plate and
wondered briefly what it was before my thoughts were interrupted by my other
aunt asking me if I was done eating yet. It seems they had decided that the next house tour began at 3:15 and
apparently the elected tour guide wasn’t eating fast enough.
And so, I lifted up my Solo cup full of margarita and
announced it’s time to go! And that’s how the Red Cup Tour was born. It was
going well until the final leg of the tour, when I lost half the group in the
rec room and apparently they finished the tour themselves. I stopped to chat
with my neighbors who were down there (oh God) and felt compelled to explain
that the other side of the double doors is currently our dirty little secret.
(Other side of the double doors: a hall
leading to our unfinished laundry room and under-construction office – littered
with shit we don’t know what to do with yet). I’m convinced everyone has a
place like this in their house, but it’s probably no larger than a drawer in
the kitchen – not the monstrosity we have.
Meanwhile, on the main floor, the second party was just
getting started.
No comments:
Post a Comment