I was a young girl when my grandmother passed away. I didn’t have the time I’d have liked to learn as much as I’d hope from her.
She taught me how great good biscotti is.
She passed down the best chicken and dumplin recipe.
Anything I know of Skip-Bo came from my Granny.
But the greatest of all I’ve gained from her is the importance of having a hospitable home.
Granny’s door was always open. The coffee pot was always ready, if not already percolating.
Her large dining table was the backdrop of countless card games and conversations.
Her kitchen busied at Thanksgiving. Her living room filled with guests on Christmas Eve; her front yard, on Easter.
About the time I began curating my own home, started my own family and thought to host holidays and events – Pinterest became a thing.
Like most homemakers, hostesses and mothers, I love and appreciate Pinterest.
It’s a wealth of inspiration and information. For a lot, it’s well and good. But it has it’s downsides. The comparison game is real when you log into the interwebs.
I quickly began to confuse entertaining with hospitality.
“Entertaining seeks to impress. Hospitality seeks to bless.” Jen Wilkin
I exhausted myself with elaborate events that left no time or energy to foster connections with those I had welcomed into our home.
When the day was done it didn’t feel like the family times I had watched my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles share in while I was growing up.
I realized I had to take the focus away from busying myself with the complicated menus, the pinterest-perfect decorations; the structure of it all and leave room for life, connection and conversation!
I want meandering conversations over mid-morning coffee.
There’s coffee at the ready and a Skip-Bo deck in the dining room if you’re up for it.
I want to try to quiet the shuffling of dominoes when games carry on deep into the night, after children are sent to bed.
I have three boys; my home will never look staged, but you’re welcome here.
I want familiarity, unscheduled drop-ins, time for front porch sitting, deep conversations and comfortable silences.
That easy, relational, welcoming feeling Granny’s house had always offered – Pinterest couldn’t teach me. Thankfully, I had a seat at her table to see how it’s done.