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Last night was the last night of Bible Study for the year. Private schools are out, public schools keep going to...the end of the week? Maybe?
ps. Dear NSW Education Minister: a teacher's strike at this time of year is the least disruptive time, even after a year of COVID, lockdowns, and whatnot. Also, don't say that the Teachers' Union hasn't properly negotiated: your government locked the Dept of Education into a marginal (inflationary) limit for salary raises, then tell the Teachers' Union that they have to negotiate with the Department for their pay, then tell the public that the Teachers' Union hasn't approached the Ministerial office about payrises. I'm sorry, that is, frankly, bullshit.
Anyway, we had a potluck with amazing food (approximate dishes arranged: one green salad, one potato dish, two desserts, and the hosts provided the meat and bread), the adults ate in one room, the kids ate in another, we had some good conversations and sharing about histories.
I was thinking... I know that in our current world, people aren't just going to walk up and start talking openly about ideas, sharing thoughts, generally socialising - particularly cross-social-group. But I've been thinking/planning/hoping to hold a regular social at my place for the last, well, seven years since we moved in here. And I lit upon a 'Summer Salon'. Salon in the old European sense of a place where people (okay, the rich and nouveau riche) brought ideas for discussion and consideration.
Or you, know, people could just come, sit for an hour or two away from their responsibilities, and eat cake and drink wine/spirits/water/tea/coffee. Whatever!
Earlier this year, while reading Anne Helen Petersons' Culture Study substack about Thanksgiving and holiday hosting traditions, I came to the realisation (which I've kind of had before) that my mother's hosting schtick is not mine. I would like it to be. A perfectly clean house, everything in place, welcoming, gracious, elegant.
Mum's a Boomer, she was pretty lefty in the day although she'd never have called herself a feminist. But while parties were an occasional thing in our household, everything got cleaned and tidied and put away before the guests arrived, the floor was vaccuumed, and food was prepared and ready to go when the guests arrived.
My house is a mess. Partly because I have too much stuff, partly because I am a messy sort, and partly because B1 is a messy sort. And it doesn't help that B2 more or less lives over here on weekends. She's no longer staying overnight every weekend, and when she does it's because she's sleeping on the floor in B1's room. Which I don't mind so much; it means I feel like the house is still mine in the morning.
But, yes. Guests for dinner are not an option when the dining table has stuff piled on it, and guests in the lounge room is a little iffy when there's cat hair everywhere and 'stuff' shoved in every corner. I mean, I've had a few friends over, but not regularly.
So my mother's style of hosting is not - nor ever is likely to be - my style of hosting. And I have had to make my peace with that. My house will always be a mess of things that are waiting to be dealt with, things that might come in useful later, things that are about to be stored, cushions that the cats love, and all kinds and manner of stuff.
So I haven't felt very comfortable hosting things at my place.
However, I have to get through this. It's kind of a part of I think I might try to run the 'salon' out on the porch. I mean, it's covered, although perhaps a little drippy when the rain comes. But covered at least. And most people I know are not going to fuss too much, I think. I hope that's the case anyway.
Anyway, a couple of hours on a Wednesday night "come as you are", partners & kids welcome, although people are more than welcome to turn up just themselves (or possibly send their partners along and stay home for a bit of peace IDEK).
Now I have to work out how to phrase/arrange/get this happening...
ps. Dear NSW Education Minister: a teacher's strike at this time of year is the least disruptive time, even after a year of COVID, lockdowns, and whatnot. Also, don't say that the Teachers' Union hasn't properly negotiated: your government locked the Dept of Education into a marginal (inflationary) limit for salary raises, then tell the Teachers' Union that they have to negotiate with the Department for their pay, then tell the public that the Teachers' Union hasn't approached the Ministerial office about payrises. I'm sorry, that is, frankly, bullshit.
Anyway, we had a potluck with amazing food (approximate dishes arranged: one green salad, one potato dish, two desserts, and the hosts provided the meat and bread), the adults ate in one room, the kids ate in another, we had some good conversations and sharing about histories.
I was thinking... I know that in our current world, people aren't just going to walk up and start talking openly about ideas, sharing thoughts, generally socialising - particularly cross-social-group. But I've been thinking/planning/hoping to hold a regular social at my place for the last, well, seven years since we moved in here. And I lit upon a 'Summer Salon'. Salon in the old European sense of a place where people (okay, the rich and nouveau riche) brought ideas for discussion and consideration.
Or you, know, people could just come, sit for an hour or two away from their responsibilities, and eat cake and drink wine/spirits/water/tea/coffee. Whatever!
Earlier this year, while reading Anne Helen Petersons' Culture Study substack about Thanksgiving and holiday hosting traditions, I came to the realisation (which I've kind of had before) that my mother's hosting schtick is not mine. I would like it to be. A perfectly clean house, everything in place, welcoming, gracious, elegant.
Mum's a Boomer, she was pretty lefty in the day although she'd never have called herself a feminist. But while parties were an occasional thing in our household, everything got cleaned and tidied and put away before the guests arrived, the floor was vaccuumed, and food was prepared and ready to go when the guests arrived.
My house is a mess. Partly because I have too much stuff, partly because I am a messy sort, and partly because B1 is a messy sort. And it doesn't help that B2 more or less lives over here on weekends. She's no longer staying overnight every weekend, and when she does it's because she's sleeping on the floor in B1's room. Which I don't mind so much; it means I feel like the house is still mine in the morning.
But, yes. Guests for dinner are not an option when the dining table has stuff piled on it, and guests in the lounge room is a little iffy when there's cat hair everywhere and 'stuff' shoved in every corner. I mean, I've had a few friends over, but not regularly.
So my mother's style of hosting is not - nor ever is likely to be - my style of hosting. And I have had to make my peace with that. My house will always be a mess of things that are waiting to be dealt with, things that might come in useful later, things that are about to be stored, cushions that the cats love, and all kinds and manner of stuff.
So I haven't felt very comfortable hosting things at my place.
However, I have to get through this. It's kind of a part of I think I might try to run the 'salon' out on the porch. I mean, it's covered, although perhaps a little drippy when the rain comes. But covered at least. And most people I know are not going to fuss too much, I think. I hope that's the case anyway.
Anyway, a couple of hours on a Wednesday night "come as you are", partners & kids welcome, although people are more than welcome to turn up just themselves (or possibly send their partners along and stay home for a bit of peace IDEK).
Now I have to work out how to phrase/arrange/get this happening...
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If you can work things out, we could possibly drop by on a Wednesday if you give us a week or two of notice :)
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The 'salon' will be running all summer, every Wednesday except for perhaps the one after New Year. (And possibly the one after Christmas? IDK.)
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