‎"...a little 'trouty', but quite good" ~ Eve Kendall, North By Northwest

Sunday, May 31, 2009

party on

The problem with hosting a party is that once all the guests have left, one is morally obligated to eat any remaining food.

I hosted a party today at Trout Towers. There were several people coming who I had never met, which always makes me nervous. The timing was perfect, though, because I was getting into one of those un-nesting moods.

Do birds do that? The ones who reuse their nests, I mean. Do they occasionally look around and say, "who put this twig and bit of string here and why?!?!" Then they rip the whole silly thing apart and get rid of all the discarded feathers and old socks and straighten up a bit?

That's the mood I've been in.

I filled a contractor's bag and sent it out the door with the Upstairs Neighbor who reported that it made dingalingalingaling sounds all the way to the dump. Fortunately, Studley and Sugarplum were not within earshot to identify the broken but not quite dead toy. Do birds catch grief from their families when they un-nest?

I spent yesterday clearing and organizing and, finally, hanging pictures. I was not embarrassed when friends of friends showed up at my house and saw Trout Towers for the first time - which is new for me. And then of course the people who have been here before showed up and said OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HOUSE? which totally blew my cover.

Now I'm the only one awake (and that barely), sitting in my livingroom, listening to music and enjoying my house. Finally. Why did it take so long to feel at home in this particular part of the house?

I just rifled through some of my posts from last summer, trying to find one that explains how we moved downstairs so we could take better care of my mother-in-law. Trout Towers is a two story home with a full kitchen on each floor, making it possible to live away from one's in-laws if one so chooses. This is what we did for years, until we were needed. So we packed up and came downstairs, after stripping every surface and painting everything that didn't get out of our way. Sorry, slow-moving mice.

I couldn't find an authoritative post because oh my lord. It took at least a month to get things moved out so we could move in. And then I was all "honey! sand faster! paint already!" while Chris pretended he couldn't hear me over the sander. He picked a fine time to start being a perfectionist, let me tell you.

Why the rush? Our friends, The Upstairs Neighbors, needed a place to live. And because our home is bigger than it needs to be, we invited them to take over the upstairs while they were looking for more permanent digs. They were moving things in, up the outside staircase, while we were moving things out, down the inside staircase. Having them here has sweetened the deal in so many respects, there are not enough keys on this keyboard to explain sufficiently.

And yet, almost a year later, it didn't feel like home. And now it does. And for this, I am grateful.

And exhausted. And uncomfortably full of feta dip.


The Whispering Poppies said...

Believe me, Susan I DID read the entire post, but the words that got to me the most were "feta dip!" mmmmm...

Care to come on over here and do a little of your trout magic? Remember those digs I lived in (a hop, skip and a jump away from your old digs)? Well... this one isn't much larger! Ohhhhh the clutter!!!

BTW, dear BIL can't stand clutter. He loves his uniloader and dumpster if you hadn't already noticed. =O

BTW again... my "word verfication" word was "ocult"! lol

Janine said...

Really great post. It does take a while to nest and sometimes a little renesting is mandatory to make a place feel like home.

I'm still in the nesting process and I love it. Starting to really feel comfortable.

however, I have already moved a houseplant and it's only 7 am.

Kristin @ Going Country said...

Ah, nothing quite like the feel of After the Party. Relax. Eat some more feta dip. I'm sure you deserve it.

Susan said...

Poppy - Your BiL once complimented me on my strewing of lawn candles in the evening, back at the old digs. He said it looked like a haunting.

Janine - have fun getting settled! I'm sure the plant looks much better where it is now - or where it will be in 10 minutes.

Kristin - Running out of feta dip. Can I pretend I'm having a party and make more?

Mary Alice said...

I really liked this post. Some houses are like that. I have had so many different homes and some are instantly part of you and you of them....and some take longer to get comfortable with. This current house is still just an awkward acquaintance after three whole years...like a co-worker that you have to work with but you don't really want to share intimate details with, because well, they just aren't comfortable? Or an acquaintance you say hello to everyday, but after you move away you won't miss?

TwoBusy said...

I'm pretty sure Wayne and Garth weren't big on feta dip.

Just sayin'.

Peace Turkey said...

Nothing like the fear of judgement by strangers to turn a house into a home. I went through that when I moved into my house last year. Complete with frantic picture hanging.

I didn't have any feta dip though. Pity.

Rose Brier Studio said...

Good thing the food was so good, no sacrifice to finish it off!

DH has something to say about the/my frenzy of decorating just prior to new people coming to the house. He said artistic folk could already see the complete, decorated home in their head. Kinda like musicians can hear the finished music before it is written. BUT, when people are actually coming to the house, all of a sudden I/you/others of this sort would realize that no one else could see the beauty in our imaginations and so we have to hang pictures, make pillows, re-organize the teapot collection. If it hadn't been for PTA functions in my old house, no one would ever have seen what I "saw."

And in order to be comfortable entertaining, you have to be comfortable in your house. It's just the way it is!

Debbie said...

I love some feta dip! And I'm glad you feel like you are home.

Zip n Tizzy said...

Purging is such sweet glory.

If I don't get the bags out the door however, the boys find them in the garage and everything comes trickling back in.

Right now our house, and garage are in good need of purging. So, I hang out in the garden.