Last night, I braved it and had a little dinner party. For 8. At first, I was hestitant because I am basically lazy and also hate rejection. I mean, what if I finally get up the energy and invite people and then they don’t want to come? Whahhhhh! Knowing it’s good for us to be around people, I took the plunge.
Somehow, it began by my timidly asking a friend what they were doing this weekend. Then, it went to, “well, why don’t you guys come over.” Then, "we can maybe go out.” Then, "well, you guys can come over here." Then, "we can invite so and so...and so and so...." Before I knew I was having company!
Hmmm. What should “we" fix? Jerry and I went to the grocery store. He saw corn on the cob...and pointed to it. Ok, “we’ll have corn on the cob.” Shrimp! Steaks! All we cared about was getting together. In fact, one person changed their plans in order to come. Yippi!
As my excitement started ramping up....I fixed up the house, got out some cool Italian pottery, and had Jerry take a nap. I made sure the grill (barbee) was working fine, put some things in the oven, and poured some nuts in a bowl. Then, I poured a little wine and went up stairs to get ready.
Jerry had to look “hot” so I dressed my handsome (but emaciated) dude in some navy blue shorts and a cool long sleeve button down shirt....no socks...and some deck shoes. Feeling feisty, I decided to put on the sexiest black top that I had. Hey! I’m 58. It’s either now or never.
One by one the guests arrived...and so did the rain! Of the men, one was a boat builder, one was a pool builder, one was a retired United Airline pilot, and one then, there’s Jerry, a “retired” corporate guy. Even though Jerry doesn’t speak, the guys did their best to keep him included. Of the girls, three are artists, two play tennis. The United Airline pilot cared for his wife’s mother for three years. She passed away with Alzheimer disease. I’ll call him the gentle soul. Besides, my being retired from American AIrlines, practically makes us kin after our 911 experience. When the rains came, I played the poor wife routine and offered to hold the umbrella for whichever brave soul volunteered to cook the steaks. So I dangled a raw steak in front of them and looked to see who would come running. Joe.....ahhh, my good ole, Joe, who cooked them to perfection. (I had to say that just in case he reads this blog,)
The girls made sure I was seated away from Jerry and put him right in the middle of the guys. Nice. At one time, I even saw out of the corner of my eye, the “gentle soul” cutting Jerry’s steak. How cool was that! No one made any big deal of it. Good job, everyone. The chatter never stopped until about 11pm, when Jerry said, “It’s time to go.” Funny. Everyone jumped up. I’m not sure if he thought they should leave or if he though he should leave.
Anyway, the night as good and well worth the effort. Neither rain, nor fear, nor Alzheimers could keep us from having a good time.