On Party Apologies and Aging Aches

I’ve been a bad blogger this past weekend.  I’m at least 40 posts behind reading what my friends have written, and I myself have absolutely nothing lined up to share—that’s nothing with a capital “N,” the bulkiest, burliest, but noteworthy, “nothing” this side of something Big.

But there’s a party to blame.  That’s always an out in my book—the party pass.

Seriously, my uncle is here from Brussels, so Sara and I hosted a sit-down dinner and clam bake for sixteen yesterday. 

the appetizer table

clams and mussels

This wasn’t a toss-some-burgers-on-the-grill-and-grab-a-paper-plate affair.  This was serious party, fancy party, an oh-so impractical party.  This was event—this was occasion on a grand scale.

my mom and uncle in the middle, family friends Marion (left) and Joan (right)

nephews around the fire pit, Johnny on guitar, Johnny's friend Ben (left), and Drew, my right hand man for the day (right)

Why won't anybody sit here?

table on the lawn set for 12, (My four teenage nephews sat at a separate table.)

However, our aging bodies are paying the price—beaten up by the effort—the party pound of flesh.  Sara’s back is out—so she can barely walk.  Limping along, leaning on one piece of furniture after another, she’s standing at the sink, trying to wash the lobster pots, the plates, the wine glasses.  (We don’t even have a dishwasher.)  My entire body, on the other hand, is one big, even massive ache, as I’ve worked on clean-up hour after hour, before collapsing on the bed, throbbing, threatening never-again to blow-out bash.

The bottom line is this—I apologize for my not-exactly-lazy lapse.  I promise to soon resume reading the blogs I love and writing more Mafia-ed, memoir posts.

So, beaten but not defeated, I raise my glass to you.  Here’s to visiting uncles, end-of-summer celebrations, and the sweetest soiree of them all—the big bang we’re making in the blogosphere, as well. Hugs to my rockin’ readers.

51 thoughts on “On Party Apologies and Aging Aches

  1. No apologies necessary. The party looked fabulous, and I would have sat in your lovely cushioned seats as well. You deserve time out to party. All you missed here was a flaming verbal battle between several of us and a CyberBully who needs to be locked off of the internet. No biggie.


  2. Oh wow! Looks like you guys pulled out all the stops! (what does that even mean?? haha!)
    Hats off to both of you, and I commiserate with your achy bodies, Kathy dear. Now don’t do it again, ever! 😀
    Just kidding, I love your crockery and the lights strung around the lovely seating (why wouldn’t anybody sit there indeed! I would have plonked myself there and not moved)
    Parties like this scare me to death! So much work!


    • It is a lot of work, but so damn much fun in the end–or until the end, I should say, as the clean-up is hell. We sort of did “pull out all of the stops”–which I think is an organ metaphor, opening the stops to increase volume, maybe? A lot of work, yes, but Sara and I love to entertain. Someday you must come to Kentucky and visit us. We will pull out all the stops for you, too!


  3. Wow – wish I was there! You girls know how to throw a clam-bake. You might have just inspired me to bake a turkey and invite some friends for Canadian Thanksgiving.


    • Exactly–and I don’t even drink, Dana! I didn’t have a drop of wine, and Sara may have found time to drink a half glass–tops. How can you be hung-over when you don’t even drink? It makes no sense to me. Wish you could have been here to celebrate with us!


    • I know, I know. It’s extreme, but our house is more than 100 years old and would require more of a kitchen remodel than we’ve wanted to do to get a dishwasher. Plus, we hadn’t been here to really care and certainly never had one overseas. Maybe we got used to it. It’s only at times like this that we really think much about it.
      Glad you think this is something. Thanks, Heather.


  4. So what I hear you saying is that you were causing trouble, kicking butt and taking names and that’s why you haven’t blogged? Works for me! Looks like a grand time. While you’re on the mend, just think about how the recovery has made the story even better. PS I love food and food-based gatherings. I feel warm and full by association 🙂


    • That’s it exactly, Rose! You’re getting to know me well already. I too love food. I really, really love food! And I look like it, too. We’re just glad there were left-overs for us to eat the past couple of days. God forbid, we lose a little weight! Ha, ha!


  5. Oh my, your spread reminds me of when I was growing up in Maine. Yum on the food, beautiful on the different settings. I would have sat in your sitting area. I love the look. I wouldn’t mind having that on my patio. Thanks for sharing. I think I am hungry now.


    • Oh, wow. wait till I tell Sara it reminded you of Maine! She will be so proud. Neither of us had ever done a clam bake before, so we were going by what we could read online. So thank you. You are welcome at our table any time! And, of course, out seating area, as well!


    • You know I thought about taking the after-shots but it was so dark, I didn’t think the photos would turn out. About the platter and bowl–believe it or not–both are plastic. We had to come up with plates we could transport to Haiti in our suitcases–that were light and wouldn’t break. What you see there is what we took–purchased at Target. Don’t imagine you have the store in SA.

      Glad you like what I came up with. Thanks, Jackie!


  6. I’m not sure why no one would sit under your canopy. I certainly would. It looks lovely there! What a beautiful set up you had, and a delicious menu! Please invite me to your next party. I promise I’ll help so there will be fewer aches and pains for you and Sara afterwards! 🙂


  7. It looks like a great party. I have never been to a clambake. I have only heard about it in an Elvis Presley movie. I never use a dishwasher. We have one, but I prefer to have Jim do the dishes. I cook, he washes.


  8. I am ALWAYS feeling behind lately. Life has gotten busy. Your party looks fabulous! I hope you enjoyed yourselves! Looking forward to your next posts. Are you writing a book on you dad’s story? It is excellent writing!


  9. That looked like quite a lovely party. Did you use empty bottles of Reed’s Jamaican style ginger ale as candlestick holders? My grocer used to carry Reed’s and then stopped. Another in the steady stream of life’s disappointments. So, I’m stuck guzzling Magic Hat. I feel for Sara’s back. I’ve been there. That injury is one that could be manufactured by Lucifer. Delightful post!


    • How funny that you noticed. That’s exactly what it is! Sara’s a huge fan of Reed’s. We were inspired to use whatever empty bottles we had on hand as candlesticks after seeing it done in Haiti.

      About that Satanic injury–Sara just passed through the room nearly limp free on her way upstairs saying, “Look at me walk!”


  10. This looks like good times to feel aches for! 🙂

    All Friday, I suffered for having stayed out till 10 p.m. at an art show. The me of a decade ago would’ve wept, but I took it to heart for future weeknight invitations.

    I’m pretty much in a perpetual state of behindness with blogs these days. I’m thinking of implementing a policy whereby I post nothing new until I’m caught up on everything else. I’m pretty sure Ba.D. would get behind that I-get-to-spend-time-with-my-baby-mama approach!


  11. Oh, the irony of *finally* commenting on a post that’s all about getting behind… and I don’t even have a party pass excuse!
    It looks like you and Sara throw a wonderful party. If I’m ever in the Southern states (and you two are still stationed in the US), I am totally coming to stalk your back yard. 🙂


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