Fear Not

Clump #125:  Christmas and party cleaning.

I hosted a get together for the ladies of our small neighborhood tonight. As I was making preparations, mostly cleaning, I was conscious of how my mind would ping-pong. Everywhere I looked I saw something else I should be doing.  The finger prints on the refrigerator … the cat hair on the couch … the layer of peanut brittle dust on the floor … (below, my husband, the amazing peanut brittle-maker:)


I get pre-party anxiety.  It’s more than just having a lot to do in a limited amount of time, not to mention my current cookie and peanut brittle diet.  I was feeling frazzled and frenzied and knew it was really another f-word: fear.  What am I afraid of? These are nice people coming over.  Yes, they are superior housekeepers, but I don’t really think they’d drum me out for my substandard skills.

I tried to repeat to myself that my state of mind is the most important element of the party … the vibe that is either welcoming and fun or frantic and exhausted.  It’s a party … not a test.

Everyone seemed to have a good time, and with help from my daughters, the food and decor were great.  The invitation was for wine and bring-your-favorite hors d’oeuvres.  We had received a bottle of champagne as a gift, so I used it in a recipe I found online, from Williams-Sonoma.  Very easy: one ounce pomegranate juice, a half ounce Grand Marnier; add champagne to fill glass, and garnish with a few pomegranate seeds.  Festive and delicious!


With all of these Christmas preparations, this line has kept running through my head, speaking to my condition:  “And the angel said to them, Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”