Some people have a natural gift of hospitality. I don’t. The thought of someone coming to my house for a meal terrifies me. Are my plates out of style? Did the dishwasher leave spots on the spoons? There’s too many bills and papers you have not filed yet; why not?! The screaming in my head gets loud.
‘Sometimes we need to go outside our comfort zone’ the old cliche’ reminds me. ‘Just do it,’ Nike chimes in.
So I put away as much crap as I could. I threw the rest into boxes, and used the table runner and napkins my mother-in-law gave me, put a bunch of tea bags in a plate, and boiled sone water. That’s an old crappy tea kettle, what if someone sees the rust?
Ugh. I did the best I could. Then my friend came over. She complimented me on my house. 😳 shocking.
We had a pleasant conversation, some tea and crumb cake, and more conversation. Then she thanked me for the visit and left.
I survived tea time on a Tuesday afternoon.<<<<