I'd been looking forward to it for quite awhile.
On Saturday, I took an evening off from waitressing so we could open our house to a whole crowd of our Binghamton friends. I missed them so terribly. I knew I did, and was excited, and then somehow when I saw them standing in our backyard with the late September sun setting behind them, I realized I'd missed them more than I'd thought. A lot of hugging ensued.
I love waitressing; I do that so I can meet the town. It's a social investment, something that will lead-- and has led-- to friendships in Gilbertsville. But it's important to take a night off every now and then, I think, so I can keep up with the old friendships. The ones that made Binghamton-- drab, gritty Binghamton-- into the often-joyous place it was.
Fortunately, our friends have a way of providing us with the perfect excuse to see them: they are in a fabulous band. So, we booked them a show at the Empire House-- where I usually waitress on Saturday nights-- and so our new Gilbertsville friends and our old Binghamton friends could sit and drink and holler together as the band played their show.
(Note: they're called the Lutheran Skirts, and you can check them out on YouTube here.)
Patrick and I have been hosting bands for a couple of years now, and we love it. Every time, I love it a little more, I think.
It just doesn't get better. You get to see your friends, sure, and hear their wonderful music. You get to spend a couple of hours making magic in the kitchen (while your husband obligingly cleans carpets and closets and catboxes), and then everyone pours in and eats and exclaims and acts so grateful... when really all you did was sweep a little bit and make magic in your kitchen. The fact that they were all there to receive the magic is the best, most surprising, rewarding part.
I didn't have friends in high school-- true story-- and now I have droves of friends who will travel great distances for the privilege of eating lasagna in my dining room. That is the whole story. I love them.