It starts with grade school parties, handing out invitations, eating birthday cake. Then high school, getting together with friends, parental warnings to stay out of trouble. Soon, it’s first apartments, first parties. Not long after, life gets busy. Days and nights are full and one of the only ways to spend time with everyone is to invite them all over.
No surprise that after the “stay home, keep to your bubble” of 2020-2022, being at home hasn’t been on my list of things to do. But then, one rainy day this summer, as I was cleaning, I found myself holding in my hands some things from parties past: the cheese board and serving platter, the cocktail glasses and and ice bucket, the cake pedestal and disco ball.
Next thing I knew, I was making a guest list that included people beyond my 2020-2022 bubble, and I was inviting them over. Opening the door to the space where you wake up, cook meals, wash dishes, water houseplants, bathe, sweep, and sleep … it takes a bit of a leap of faith. And mutual trust (one hopes). There’s an element of the invitation to gather that’s also mutual — on the part of the host and the guests — to move past “social distance” in a way that’s unique to having shared time with a group of people (some you may know well, some you may not) in the place the host calls home.
Several times this summer, there were gatherings at my place, the place that I call home. I cooked, I cleaned, I prepped. We ate, we drank, we talked, we laughed.
Sometimes … when the days and nights are full, one of the best ways to spend time with everyone is to invite them all over.
a few words ... from Montréal 