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Ps&Qs: Are you coming or what?

How could anyone resist sending in this response card from PearTree Greetings?

I’m not sure why, but responding to invitations seems to be a courtesy that is falling away. Sure, we’re all busy, but so is the person kindly extending an invite, planning a party and holding a spot for you at a table.

We had a party not too long ago and while most responded, there were still a few who did not. Some of those we didn’t hear from showed up (pleasant surprise) and others did not (we get the hint, you don’t want to hang out with us). It was a casual thing so not a big deal either way, but for anyone who has ever orchestrated something that requires a definitive head count, response is important.

It only takes a moment, especially with an electronic invite. However, I realize that if I don’t reply when I first view an email or evite, it tends to get buried in a string of emails. That is until I remember it and sometimes after the requested respond by date. Super bad guest etiquette.

Emily Post suggests getting back to your host within a day or two of an invitation. Polite, but also practical so that it doesn’t get lost on the to-do list. For anyone in need of a refresher course, here is the complete guide to invitation etiquette according to Ms. Post.

Any outstanding invitations awaiting your reply? Drop your hosts a line today.

 

 

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Wander: London

Todd and I went on vacation last month to London and Berlin. Without the baby. Aside from one overnight, one parent has always been with Soren. Traveling just the two of us again, is something we’ve longed to do. So before we (ok, me) had time to back out we asked my mom to come stay (she was thrilled) and booked tickets. We were off.

Cue the roiling waves of deep gratitude for those who made it possible; guilt for leaving the work to others; moments of home sickness; uncertainty about what to do with all the free time and mental space; and more guilt still for not missing our son every single second. Soren, it turns out, was having such a good time he was largely unaware of our absence.

It was decadent. And it probably won’t happen again for another 10 years. I felt fortunate to have the experience at all. So here are snapshots of Part One of what my husband termed ‘The Seven Day Date’.

 

Yes, we went to the Tate Modern, but our friend Adam also suggested the off-beat Soane Museum. This former residence is crammed (borderline hoarder antiquities style) with the personal collection of architect Sir John Soane. The art itself wasn’t of great interest to me. But a peek into the world of an eccentric collector and stroll around a tony neighborhood (picture above) made for an odd-ball afternoon.

Paella, French pate, fresh mozzarella, stinky grilled cheese sandwiches, lamb burgers, ostrich farmers, fish mongers, bakers, spice vendors, florists and even a classic barber shop can be found in the abundant  Borough Market. A classic old-world market of the highest order. Here is Todd with one of our prize bites of the day.

 

 

 

 

We strolled Brick Lane not for the Indian food (which I’m sure is fantastic), but for the graffiti. The crane is by Roa, anyone know about the yelling guys?

We wound our way through Soho and ended up at a very no-frills 12 seat restaurant in Chinatown for filling won-ton soup and steamed pork buns. Kinda perfect on a dreary London day.

The permanent feeling pop-up restaurant from the chef collective the Young Turks above the Ten Bells pub (lore claims it was a Jack the Ripper, er, pick-up spot) was a total surprise. It was certainly our favorite meal in London and on our Top Ten Ever list. The seven course menu of deftly handled seasonal and local ingredients mixed high––combos like pigeon, duck egg and watercress or the suckling kid, grilled onion and ramson savory finale––and low brow––more fried mutton breast sticks with mint sauce please. The whole experience felt more like a relaxed dinner party than stuffy dining experience. The chef even popped down with several more desserts as if he was just goofing around upstairs in the kitchen and needed to run a few things by us at 11:00. It was outrageously good. They’ve threatened to cook in Brooklyn this fall for a few nights. I hope to catch up with the Young Turks when in town.

And finally, the main attraction, our dear friend Elinor. An excellent guide and generous, relaxed hostess. She and her beau Adrian made for such a warm start to the trip. We’ll be back.

 

 

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Gift: The Mothering Kind

At a recent launch event for a parenting website I made what I thought was casual conversation with another guest and asked if she had children. Her lovely smile dropped and she answered that no, she did not, and it was one of her life’s greatest regrets.

I apologized for bringing up such a sensitive subject, and shared that while I couldn’t fully understand what she had experienced, I don’t consider being a literal parent the only way to nurture, support, care for and ‘parent’ a child. Despite being a part time tutor, she hadn’t thought of it in those terms. But, what she did think about were her students (often), and the joy and hilarious stories working with them brought to her life. Which, after all, are a few perks for those who mother in any sense of the word.

So, to all who mother, teach, instruct and help us grow in their own way: thank you and happy Mother’s Day.

 

 

My sister-in-law gifted me with one of these eggs from Rae Dunn Clay stamped affectionately with one word:  ‘Adore’.  Perfect for a sunny window sill or night stand.

 

 

 

 

This is a splurge, but I absolutely covet my friend Jessie’s custom silhouette charm from Love & Victory. It’s just one of the many tender custom gifts they create. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gift blooms that will last all year round with a membership to a local botanic garden, or make a donation to a conservatory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Any and all work by Maira Kalman, a true source of creativity and wonder. This edition of Michael Pollan’s wise food guide was re-issued last year with additional rules and enhanced with Kalman’s sublime illustrations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Create: May Day Magic

Last year on May 1, a tiny basket festooned with crepe-paper ruffles containing pink tulips, glossy green hypericum berries and homemade sugar cookies was left on our doorstep. I half expected to glimpse woodland elves scampering off down the block trailing pixie dust in their path. I wasn’t too far off on the magic bit, as the source was my friend Jessie, one of the most incessantly creative people I have the good fortune to know.

Jessie and my pal Brian are the husband-wife-team behind, Loeffler Randall, the dream of a footwear company that they spun into a remarkable reality. As dedicated as they are to this successful business started in their then Brooklyn garden apartment, they have another thriving venture: raising three sweet boys (5-year-old twins and a 19-month-old).

While Jessie obviously has an incredible talent for sublime design and high fashion, she  equally adores hands-on crafts that involve paint, glue, stamp sets and her curious boys. The May Day basket is just one example of her many thoughtful, homespun projects.

I asked Jessie to share a little bit about these baskets of bliss in honor of the ancient spring festival of May Day tomorrow.

Until this treat landed on our doorstep, I had no idea about May Day. Is it something you celebrated growing up? Yes, when I was little we used to make May Day baskets for our neighbors, particularly older ladies who lived in the neighborhood. We’d make little bouquets out of the wild flowers we’d find around the neighborhood.

What materials did you use to create last year’s baskets? Plastic tubs I found at the hardware store; streamers (to make the fringe); more streamers to braid for the handle; glue to secure fringe to the baskets; a glue gun to secure the handles; little tags from the hardware store to write “May Day”; rubber stamps to stamp out the letters and ribbon to tie the tags onto the baskets.

What sort of treasure should fill a May Day basket? Flowers in a little bouquet and something sweet to eat.

How did you get your boys involved with this thoughtful project? The boys helped me glue the fringe to the baskets, select the flowers and make the bouquets. And they were my delivery team!

We sadly missed the best delivery service ever, but  how did people react? People were completely delighted. When I was growing up we did this every year, but these days I don’t think many people do it. So it was a real surprise and it felt like an old fashioned treat.

What did your boys learn from this act of giving? It’s always nice to come up with a project around giving. Sharing and giving is a tough concept for 4-year-olds. Of course, my boys were very vested in making their own baskets, but they were even more thrilled at the reaction the baskets received from others. They loved the project!

I love this project too. It’s perfect for all ages, and any chance to spread spontaneous, unexpected joy should be taken. Thanks Jessie!

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Gift: Apron Strings

If you are in need of something for the host or hostess with the mostest (really, as in the person who has everything and you’ve run out of ideas) a short, chic or multi-purpose apron might be just the thing. The demure apron may have been made popular by June Cleaver, but with pockets and updated patterns it’s ready for a comeback. Not just all flounce either, a more rugged waist apron is handy for the garden or tool-shed tinkerer. In skulking around the web looking for aprons I discovered that there is even an apron museum in Ioka, Mississippi. Road trip anyone?

I have to give credit for this idea where it is due to Emily, the clever, generous maid-of-honor to my dear friend Sarah. In a nod to the the-bride-to-be, a charming hostess herself, Emily gifted kicky cocktail aprons to guests at Sarah’s bachelorette dinner. Not only is it a sweet reminder of the bride, but it’s so useful too.

Emily found many of the aprons from Lorraine Mahoney’s vintage collection. This classic gingham number makes me want not not only bake a pie, but even attempt a crust from scratch.

 

A trim demi style apron with a damask print and roomy pockets from The Hip Hostess qualifies as kitchen evening wear.

 

Those who love a project can sew their own from these original patterns collected by Past Patterns.

 

And, for a less frilly host or hostess, this hard-working cotton duck Carhartt apron has pockets for tucking away tools for any trade––from grilling implements to paint brushes.

 

Or, keep it short and simple with a restaurant quality cotton blend bartender style apron from Sur La Table.

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Create: Party Hats

This past weekend concluded a marathon birthday celebration for one of those numbers that kicks-off another decade. And kicks me into a new marketing bracket––bring on the premature AARP mailings. The closing ceremony, as it were, was marked with friends and their children who rolled with my birthday wish to all cram into our one-bedroom apartment for a party.

The day before the little fete I started to panic a bit…what to do with all the kids? As in many hosting situations, I took a page from my mother’s entertaining playbook. This called for goldfish crackers, a couple of classic movies and the old party hat activity.

This hat craft made its debut at my 7th birthday party, and still keeps little ones entertained today. It’s the perfect last minute activity, and what’s a birthday party without a hat? And, in the case of this party, friends spilling out onto front stoop, a fridge stocked with champagne bottles in pyramid formation, a homemade layered red velvet cake and a house full of people I hope to know for many decades more.

It all started with the hat. Here’s what you’ll need:

*Paper bowls (which also conveniently double as bowls for cake)

*Ribbon

*Glitter glue (a six-year-old guest told me that glitter glue is far superior to regular glue)

*Markers, crayons

*Stickers, pom-poms, glittery shapes, any sort of crafty bling

Pre-punch holes on either side of the lip of the bowl, string a ribbon through on either side and the kids can do the rest.

 

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Wander: Rio, Family Style

Antique fair, Lapa

Last month we embarked on our first international family adventure to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Yes, the beach destination best known for barely-there swimwear, steamy Carnival festivities and dance-until-dawn-nightlife scene. Probably not top of mind for a family vacation. However, the upcoming host of both the World Cup 2014 and Olympics 2016 has been building up infrastructure, working to drop crime rates and generally ensure that the city is safer for all visitors.

I was less concerned about crime and more wrapped up in the logistics: visas, passports, making copies of our son’s birth certificate, and checking with our pediatrician about additional vaccines (none required since we weren’t venturing into the jungle). And, while the 10-hour plus flight felt imposing with a toddler (could I possibly pack enough snacks?), the time change (two hours ahead) was reasonable, making this destination seem possible for our experiment in family travel.

This possibility became a reality when we checked in for our TAM Airlines flight, and passed through the looking glass into the magical realm of Brazilian hospitality towards families. As the priority boarding announcement for passengers with disabilities and families was made we listened passively. These announcements seem perfunctory on domestic flights, and go largely ignored. The Brazilians however take this stuff seriously, and all but pushed us to the front of the line. The flight attendants cooed and fawned over our son. And during our trip a flight attendant was bouncing a toddler up and down the aisles as if it were just a routine part of his job.

The Brazilians, it turns out, are crazy for kids. There are priority lines for families at sightseeing spots and airports. And people stopped to engage our son, everywhere––from a doorman frantically waving to get Soren’s attention to the cab driver who reached back to play with him at every single stoplight. It wasn’t just us. I spoke with a friend who was in Rio with his three children recently, and he too was absolutely blown away by the consideration his family received.

I’m not someone who expects preferential treatment just because I have a child, but it was an incredible thing to witness a society that acknowledges even its smallest citizens. It made me realize how the focus in the US is largely on the “productive members”, whereas the Brazilians seem to regard people of all ages. It makes for a huge cultural difference.

This open-arm welcome at restaurants, in stores and pretty much everywhere we went made relaxing and enjoying that much easier. Of course, as with any solid adventure, there were the low points: the camera broke on the first day so we documented with the iPhone; save for one afternoon, the beach was closed for swimming  (raw sewage in the water!); and our son can only sit for about 15 minutes at any restaurant.

But, none of this detracted from the adventure.  We did it. We navigated long flights, language barriers, mystery dining experiences and our own fears about venturing outside of our comfort zones as parents. Which, as I’m finding, is at the heart of this parenting thing, a realization I will happily blame on Rio.

 

 

 

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Gift: Poetry

April is National Poetry Month. So read a poem, recite one or pick up a book of poetry for someone (yourself even). I’ll be making an effort to read more poetry this month, so please send along any suggestions.

Today

Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

 

 

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Wander: Meg Curtis of Stonewall Farm

We’re kicking off a new Innkeeper Q&A Series today with Meg Curtis, Innkeeper Extraordinaire of Stonewall Farm Bed and Breakfast in Hillsborough, New Hampshire. I am fortunate enough to be friends with the Curtis family (a perk of marriage), and luckier still to have been a guest several times at this comfortable, welcoming, historic home (complete with barn, sheep, chickens, and lots of good campfire stories).

Many people talk about heading to the country and opening a B&B, but you and your husband, Skip, actually did it. What events led you to make this dream a reality? Skip and I had been casually looking for B&B properties for 15 years during weekend travels up and down Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine. In 1996, with our three kids launched, we moved from Massachusetts to our summer home in New Hampshire.  We realized we needed something a little bigger, and again started looking. We were drawn to antique homes, but had put the idea of a B&B on the back burner.

That was until our real estate agent took us to look at an old farm house that had been established as a two room B&B. As we drove around the corner, I spotted a beautiful 1785, hip roofed farmhouse located on a slight knoll at the bend of the country road. I said, “Oh my, is this it?”  It was love at first sight. We walked through the carriage house, a hobby room (that would eventually become our family room and living quarters) and into the dining room. It was a cold, damp, November day. There was no fire in the fireplace. However, the room wrapped me in warmth, and I told my husband that this was the house. He exclaimed, “Don’t you even want to see the bedrooms?” Actually, no, but I continued with the tour of the five bedrooms, all with great possibilities. Yes, this was it.

Can you offer a brief history of Stonewall Farm? It was built in 1785 by David Goodall and resold in 1835 to a newly married couple, James and Elizabeth Bickford. There are too many stories to tell, but I am fortunate enough to have pictures of them and lots of memorabilia from their lives. It remained in their family until the 1920s or 30s. It was a home that had a lot of activity for the 1800s.

What are changes and additions that your family has made to enrich this place? New granite counters, cupboards, and appliances. After all, the country kitchen with the Glenwood stove is indeed the heart of the house. A parking lot needed to be established, a new and expanded outdoor deck and more bathrooms installed, so that each room would have their own private bath. My passion is wingback chairs and I have bought them at auction and had them reupholstered to provide a warm and comfortable setting in all areas, as well as the guest rooms. Our son has tackled a lot of the landscaping projects, and last year the barn renovation. When you own a historic home, the work and projects will never be done…that is a given.

I love the breakfasts and local goat milk soaps. What other amenities do guests appreciate? Yes, everyone seems to enjoy the full, homemade breakfast. We have our own supply on this property of apples, peaches, pears, raspberries, blueberries and grapes (for homemade grape juice). We also have a large herb garden beside the kitchen, and we grow all of our own vegetables in the summer. Nothing is ever sprayed here. We have now ventured into raising our own chickens, so we have farm fresh eggs too. We purchase New Hampshire made maple syrup and also offer it for sale, along with the goat milk soaps. I don’t know if you would consider it an amenity, but the star gazing that we have in the evening is a real gift. There is also a fire pit where the guests can enjoy a bonfire in the evening.

What have been some of the biggest surprises about becoming an innkeeper? Being an innkeeper is a surprise each and every day. You never know who you will be hosting on any given day, and all rooms have to be ready to go at a moments notice. On laundry: it generally takes at least eight hours to wash, dry and fold all room laundry after a full house. Of course, I love the smell of sheets dried out on the line, and that takes a little extra time in the good weather. We also found that earlier rising to prepare breakfast did not mean we would go to bed early. We would often stay up late for someone arriving from a long trip. This is not a job for folks that think they can “retire”. You have to love people and love what you do to continue a business like this.

Do you have return guests that seem more like friends now? In general, we love our guests and we remain in contact with a great many of them. As I say: there is never a stranger in our home. We have had guests from all over the world, and every guest brings something new to this B&B. It is always a learning opportunity, and after 15 years in the business, I don’t intend to stop any time soon. As long as I am physically able I will continue meeting, greeting and making sure everyone has the best B&B experience possible!

Visit Meg and Stonewall Farm; 235 Windsor Road; Hillsborough, New Hampshire; 603.478.1947; stonewallfarm@gmail.com

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Ps&Qs:Renew the Social Contract

At a party one night, I was chatting with a woman about one of the larger ideas behind GHG, the belief that we’re all guests here, so we should strive to be more thoughtful and respectful everywhere, be it someone’s home or on the subway.  It resonated with her, because she thinks that we’re losing sight of our social contract––the basic rules of courtesy, conduct and human interaction. The woman’s brother and his girlfriend, who both work at a coffee shop, jumped in and added that many people have just flat out forgotten their manners.

At the risk of sounding prissy (and old), I agree. The couple went through a list of behavior that they observe every day at their job: customers yapping on their phone while ordering; nary a please or thank you; and blatant-I’m-more-important-than-you line jumping, to name a few. Part of the problem is that in our increasingly electronic, virtual, blinking-screen world we tend to treat humans as just another automated service too. I admit, I’ve been guilty of the phone thing. In a reflex reaction I took a call while standing on line at the pharmacy, and I still wasn’t off the call when I reached the counter. I felt like a complete jerk.

It doesn’t take much to renew this social contract either.  A courteous hello, thank you or even a smile––you know, the basics. So, until we are all replaced by robots, put your call on hold, take a minute to acknowledge the human on the other side of the counter, in the toll booth at the ticket counter and be grateful that we are man and not machine (yet).

 

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