Things Can Always Go Wrong

On a recent Sunday night, I threw a small dinner party for my two oldest friends in N.H.  One of them was the first woman I met in my neighborhood who subsequently introduced me to practically everyone I needed or wanted to know.  She's plugged in to our tiny burgh.   She's the person I go to when I need to know who is doing what, owns what, selling what, whose kids are doing what.  I laughingly refer to her as "The Town Crier".

While the dinner turned out beautifully, it was a comedy of errors under construction.  The paper towels caught fire & could have burned down the house were it not for my soapstone counter & my eagle eyed friend who saw smoke trickling out of the screen door as we sat on the rear deck.  I thought it was the bbq!  We snuffed the fire before it had a chance to blacken my new white cabinets or worse yet, burn down the house.

Back in the sweltering kitchen, continuing the meal prep as the humidity played havoc with my hair, my sanity & my overactive hot flashes, I was sweating profusely as I worked at the kitchen sink gazing out the window as my dog, Dewey, began to shake his head dramatically from side to side.  He was shaking something in his mouth which, to my horror, turned out to be a very long snake.  My guests couldn't see him from the deck because a large Japonica bush blocked their view.  I began screaming.  By the time my husband reached the dog, he'd snapped the head off the snake and was dragging two feet of snake body about.  UGH.  Now, being a California Girl, I'm thinking it's poisonous, you know, rattlesnake, coral snake, something like that.  Apparently it was a very long harmless garter snake.  That didn't appease me much.

When our guests left that evening, they thanked us for "a great meal and great entertainment."  I somehow always make these New England ladies laugh.

               Our beloved Dewey, referred to as "Sideways Dog", in his youth



HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!