The Aftermath

What was: 21 lbs. of the most delicious pulled pork shoulder ever, ever, ever to come off a Weber kettle, smothered in my husband's secret sauce (his God-given, number one talent); 17 lbs. of potato salad, my secret recipe; 5 lbs. of vegetarian baked beans; 3 lbs of pimento cheese, spinach dip, and strawberries; 1 handle of Elijah Craig 12 year, a quart of mint syrup, 2 cases of beer and a great big jug of wine. What is: the remains of a whole, whole lot of banana pudding, half a deliriously sweet Heath Bar cake, dozens and dozens of caramel brownies, and some tick-stuffed party guests. A grand old time was had by all, including my sweet boy, who had the pleasure of a date with his beloved baby-sitter during the party itself (the idea of dozens of friends over to play is delightful, but the reality of it reduces him to an almost instant puddle.) He chose the itenerary for said outing-- a trip to the bookstore, where he was read every single Frances book in stock, a jaunt to the coffee shop for some jazz and a date bar (again, his choice, because what else does one eat on a date?) and the grand finale of a quesadilla and beans and chips without salsa. And yes, I gave the sitter a generous tip. Mostly for reading all that Frances, which is in a permanant state of residency under my couch cushions.) He was in fine Derby form in his seersucker pants. His brother has a lovely matching sunsuit, which I unfortunately forgot to add the leg snaps to, rendering it pretty much useless. I said I would make those outfits-- I never said anything about finishing them...

This is a little wholly representational art for you. I'm that wilted one in the middle. But oh, boy, did I have fun. And I'm delighted to report that the dining room paint job was a smashing success.And speaking of art, that's what we did with the rest of our weekend. Some of our dearest friends are leaving Greensboro in a few short weeks. We met in graduate school, had our first children within months of each other, and their second child is due to arrive before John Harper is six months old. Friends whose lives are so interwoven with ours that the very fabric of our days will be different with their going. And although my heart is breaking a little every time I think of it, they are leaving behind small, beautiful tokens of their presence in our lives. The lovely copper pieces in our living room-- our first "real" art purchase-- are Jake's work. And now one of his graceful, imposing, perfectly-proportioned three-dimensional sculptures has taken center stage in our garden. He held an art show this weekend, and friends from near and far, from our daily lives and our distant past gathered and talked and laughed and bought his beautiful pieces to bring home with us. We wish them all the most wonderful wishes one can give to friends of the right hand. And we love "Low Art Form with Indeterminate Art Object" with our whole hearts.