penny's party

In an unusual attempt at domesticity, I make a pesto-pasta dish, with peas, pine nuts, and cherry tomatoes.  I am bringing it to Penny’s bi-annual potluck party.  Usually I just pick up dessert, but today I feel ambitious.  Alexander samples it and approves.

Halfway through drying my hair I get an email from a friend with gorgeous hair.  She writes, “It is the absolute worst hair day ever....”.  I look out my window and it’s still raining hard, as it has been all day.  I have to walk seven blocks carrying a big bowl of pasta; this will not be good news for my hair.  I blow it halfway dry and give up, knowing any effort will make little difference.

Penny has a beautiful terrace where she often entertains.  Unfortunately, tonight’s rain is not conducive to outside mingling. I arrive at Penny’s dripping with water, though my Lululemon Raincoat and Hunter rain boots have have kept my clothes and me dry.  I think I’ve worn this outfit more this June, than in the entire past year. 

I put out the food I’ve brought, and join a conversation in progress.  I find people I know and spend the rest of the evening talking to them.  As I am leaving, I overhear a guy talking to Penny and complimenting her on the food.  I hear him ask her, “Do you know who made this oriental coleslaw?  It’s great. (it is).  And so are the turkey meatballs (they are).”  He comments specifically and favorably on every dish except the one I brought, which sits on the table mostly uneaten.

I think I’ll go back to buying and bringing dessert — less effort, less cost, and better product. Plus, it’s a lot easier to transport, especially if it’s raining.