Last year for my mom’s 70th birthday, my brother and his wife gave her a coupon for a free house concert to be cashed in upon her request. Eleven months later — two weeks ago — she finally did: she and Dad decided they’d host a dinner party for a few other couples to be followed by the concert and dessert. 

The week leading up to the event, I kept getting whiffs of the plans. There was menu making and a flurry of furniture rearranging. My brother and his wife went over to Mom and Dad’s to set up in the space. A lighting system was cobbled together. Mom baked a grape pie. When I stopped by one afternoon for Something Or Other, I offered (unsolicited) how-to advice on the complicated meal-to-concert transition period.

The closer we got to the event, the more I found myself wishing I could be there — not for the dinner party (that’d be rude), but couldn’t I sneak in for the concert? We’d attended their duo premiere a couple weeks before and I was craving another live performance.

At that premiere, they’d dazzled. Ever since their band dispersed last summer and the two of them struck out on their own, they’d been pouring everything into their music: rigorous daily rehearsals, meetings with their mentor, recording sessions, and the million other details that go into the making of performance art.

And it paid off; their music jumped to a whole new level. That evening, we listened as one song after another, like a whole string of beautifully packaged gifts, washed over us. With their catchy melodies, and tight harmonies, Maria’s clear, soaring voice and Christopher’s intricate guitar playing, and their original lyrics with themes of justice, growth and change, longing, and celebration, it was an evocative feast for the senses. I teared up; I laughed out loud; I applauded until my hands stung.

Here, take a look:

Anyway! The day of the dinner party, after listening to their new CD on repeat (I’m especially loving on “Crossing the Bar”), I finally broke down and emailed my mom: Would you be mad if I snuck in for the music concert tonight?

One thing led to another and that evening my husband and I showed up with carrot cake, a still-warm apple pie, ice cream, and a half dozen other guests that I’d invited last minute, because if someone was going to go to all that trouble to make music, the more people to hear it the better!

And it was lovely.

Signed,
The Party Crasher

This same time, years previous: my sweet beast, the quotidian (12.4.17), the quotidian (12.5.16), oatmeal sandwich bread, sushi!!!, baked ziti, red lentil coconut curry, wild, beef bourguignon.

Once again, the New York and Tennessee cousins made the long and arduous trek to our place for Thanksgiving.

This year, we borrowed a camper from our neighbors so the growing teens would have a little more space to sleep, and the adult guests slept over at my parents’ place, since Mom and Dad were out of town for the weekend.

Translation: we had plenty of space to spread out (the first night, there were three empty beds in the house!) and, best of all, I got to sleep in my own bed.

Along with the usual napping, making art, reading, and visiting, there were a few other hits. My son did his wax fireball and the kids set off a bunch of firecrackers (all the while screaming their fool heads off) that my older daughter picked up when she was in Chincoteague. A handful of us went on a windy Thanksgiving day turkey trot, and the next day most of drove into town to play Ultimate — I’d warned the regulars we were bringing a small village. My older daughter dyed her hair (again). They vacuum sealed each other in trash bags. The kids went to Costco to stock up on candy and to Funky’s to go rollerskating.

Friday morning my husband decided we ought to take advantage of all the extra helping hands and quick turn the two bushels of apples that were taking up space in the basement into sauce.

It was a smart move: it only took about twenty minutes to core and chop the apples for cooking, and then another couple hours of simmering and saucing and we were all done.

Every now and then, just for the heck of it, I’d throw wide my fridge doors and bellow to no one in particular, I LOVE MY FRIDGE.

And as for the island: I am in love. Every time I run my hands over the butcher block top, my heart goes pitter pat. It was in constant, heavy usage. We ate at it, worked at it, and talked around it, often simultaneously.

There were the granola breakfasts…

And the turkey feast….

And the Friday night Charcuterie Event (that I wasn’t in charge of which made it all the more delicious!)…

On Saturday morning, we had a waffle bar.

My husband had wired the island with my three waffle irons in mind (using different circuits so they don’t short out) and that morning we put them to the test.

On one end, I cooked waffles, and on the other end were the bowls of whipped cream and strawberries, assorted condiments, and a platter of bacon, and there was still room to spare.

Also, my husband’s bottle opener splurge got a serious workout.

(Only now we need a little receptacle to catch the falling bottle caps.)

And then everyone left and we scrubbed down the house and then split to our individual corners for some much needed quiet time.

This same time, years previous: Friday fun, by a thread, writing: behind the scenes, in the sweet kitchen, the quotidian (12.1.14), nanny-sitting, Thanksgiving of 2013, the quotidian (12.3.12), Friday variety.

It was a fairly low-key and humdrum gardening year. As is our custom, we exerted minimal energy and scraped by with just the necessities. Good-enough gardening, I call it.

Stats:
Strawberries: 51½ quarts sliced with sugar and frozen; 16 quarts whole, frozen; 20 pints of assorted recipes of freezer jam; 4 quarts crushed, with lemon and sugar
Sour cherries, frozen: 4 quarts; 5½ pints
Rhubarb, frozen: about 2 gallons
Basil: 16 half pints assorted pesto recipes, frozen
Zucchini: 13½ pints of relish, canned; 3 9×9 pans sausage and zucchini parm, frozen; 8 one-cup bags grated, frozen
Blueberries, frozen: 22 pints
Green beans, Roma, frozen: 25 (very large) quarts
Tomatoes: 86 quarts and 5½ pints, chopped and canned; 32½ pints roasted tomato and garlic pizza sauce, canned; 60 pints and 5 half pints roasted tomato sauce, canned
Cucumbers: 24 quarts and 3½ pints sweet pickles, canned
Nectarines: 2 quarts sugared, frozen; 2 gallons of chunks, frozen; 7 pints dried, frozen
Peaches: 9 quarts canned; 2 quarts frozen; lots of peach leather
Corn, frozen: 23 quarts
Red raspberries, frozen: roughly 16 quarts
Grapes: 16 quarts of puree, frozen; 22 quarts juice
Peppers: 3 pints cooked and frozen; several quarts fresh chopped and frozen
Apples: 36 quarts applesauce, canned

Notes:
*Much to my children’s consternation, I decided to forgo salsa since we still had some leftover from previous years. However, we are quickly running out, oops. Next year, make bunches.
*I wasn’t going to make applesauce, either — again, we had some leftover, and my family doesn’t eat tons of it anymore — but now we’re nearly out and I’m reconsidering. It is awfully nice to have applesauce on hand, and I’ve yet to find a good store sauce… (Update: we made applesauce over Thanksgiving weekend!)
*What a bumper crop of strawberries! We filled an entire small chest freezer, which makes me feel crazy rich. Here’s a good dessert: thawed lightly-sugared strawberries over vanilla ice cream (Costco’s is best) with fat, crunchy pretzels from Pennsylvania.
*Also from the garden for fresh eating: asparagus, Swiss chard, beets, jalapenos, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, radishes.
*Gazpacho was a new, fantastic discovery.
*I almost didn’t bother picking the red raspberries. We hadn’t taken care of the bushes and they looked pretty scraggly. But then I decided I should pick at least a few and, like so — picking every other day — look how many I got!
*Zucchini parm freezes and reheats beautifully. Too bad most of the progeny aren’t fans.
*We really could use more blueberries.
*We are cruising through the canned nectarines (leftover from previous years) — my younger daughter loves them in green smoothies — so next year I need to can a bunch more.
*We had so many grapes! A month after I stopped picking (and after a couple light frosts), there were still bunches of (super sweet) grapes on the vine.
*I didn’t make any pesto torte and I miss it.

This same time, years previous: the day before, the quotidian (11.25.13), Thanksgiving 2012, Thanksgiving of 2011, apple rum cake, Thanksgiving of 2010, chocolate pots de creme.