If there is one thing in this life I am sure of, it is hosting. Of course, I am also sure the man I married is above and beyond the best man I have ever met. I'm sure I am undoubtedly obsessed with dogs, and anyone else who knows me will tell you the same. And that I miss the way I used to feel flipping through a magazine dreaming of where my life would lead. But beyond that, what I am sure of is hosting.
This I know, because from a very young age I remember watching my aunt place crackers on small silver trays. Arrange slices of breakfast pastry on wooden boards. Serve champagne in the perfect flute. I remember going to stay with her in the summer and arriving to tiny gifts scattered about my room. And a trip to the store ending with a few extra things picked just for me.
I remember taking these moments in and thinking just how lovely they were. How special I felt in those slight instances, plucking tiny pickles off a plate that felts made just for me. Carefully tucking the makeup compact into my bag, so excited to bring it home and show my friends at school.
That has always been the science of hosting in my mind. A moment you get to share. A piece of time meant for someone. An ounce of joy tucked into your day that feels special merely because it is a pause with one you love.
And I don't think hosting has to be such a big and painful thing. That is actually quite the opposite. I think it should be pulling down the wooden cutting board your mom gave you at your first apartment. Covering it in slices of cheese tucked away in your fridge. The crackers you bought when you were trying to be healthy and have looked at for the last few days. It's laying out the decorative napkins you threw in your cart on a whim last week, and pouring your favorite wine into those glasses you just had to have from the Anthropology sale.
For me hosting goes far beyond big parties and large rooms full of people. It's finding ways to fill each day with just a little more magic, and sharing love while you do.