Lately people tell me my blog-life sounds like one big party. Which is pretty ironic. I might be partly a party animal but I’m not exactly living in a party town.
Actually that’s been one of the hardest parts of learning to live in a small town. Especially this small town—where they roll up the sidewalk at 6 and you can barely get a cup of coffee after it gets dark.
Though my party scene lately has been fueled by something else.
Not what you’re thinking. I mean Estrogen.
My birthday parties, the trip to Big Sur, to the Women’s Conference; it’s been a female fest. Including last night when my friend Mary returned from a trip to Greece and invited a few women over to sample her first stab at Greek cooking. All homemade, all heavenly.
….and a frozen chocolate log “Mosaico”— butter cookies crumbled and dipped in brandy, then wrapped in an intense mousse mixture frozen into a log. Obviously a dessert the Greeks (and Mary) created with me in mind.
Typically, with a group of women, nothing is spicier than the conversation. In keeping with the Greek theme, we covered everything from alpha to omega.
Then I discovered a little glitch in my social life: though I didn’t know half of the guests till I arrived, they were warned about my blog beforehand. And I was warned afterwards: though my life is an open book, not everyone wants to be a chapter.
I might have to switch to writing fiction. Or a cookbook.