Today I went to a ladies' luncheon and it was the epitome of Southern charm. My husband has repaired furniture for the woman who held it for about twenty years, and even last weekend we went there to help her de-thorn the roses she was providing for the altar vases. Anyway, Gary makes jokes about reminding me how to get to her home, saying that after taking the main turn, she's the first plantation on the left. Well, not that big, but really, her grounds spread to many acres and are just lovely. And her home---don't get me started. Magazine gorgeous. Victoria magazine doesn't have anything on her.
We first sat on her screened in porch and had cheese and crackers, then after about an hour went in to lunch, which was all on beautiful china with linen napkins---starting with a cold soup, next a crab salad on Boston lettuce (a personal favorite of mine), marinated asparagus, and little tomatoes (probably from her garden), and finished with lemon icebox pie. Her daughter, who's probably about my age or so, made everything. A savoring type of meal.
Before we ate, our hostess asked to read a poem before the blessing, and honestly, I wanted to cry. It was all so beautiful. Just perfect. With all the stuff we've lived through these past few months, to be treated so elegantly was overwhelming. I told them both I felt so fussed over, which made them laugh (not knowing my personal life), but it's true. Soothing.
Never underestimate the little touches. I realize many of these women do this all the time, the entertaining, the fancy meals and such, but I don't. Talk about feeling blessed.
And to top it all off, our hostess told me a story last weekend, which I asked her to retell today about meeting William Faulkner when she was in school at Ole Miss in Oxford, Mississippi. (This had to have been back in the forties.) He walked up the table where she and her girlfriends were having lunch in the town square, and asked to sit down with them. They chatted just a minute, but she said this wasn't out of the ordinary. He was well-known in the town, always dressed comfortably in a worn black long coat and slouch hat and was very willing to meet folks. Love this sort of tale. I do adore Faulkner's books. Really do.
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| ~my morning's view |
And my day had already begun in a sweet way with tea and breakfast on the front porch. I was up before need be, and with the neighbors quiet and traffic light, I was able to sit outside in my nightclothes---very freeing! Besides, our porch is so cut off from the sidewalk with all the bushes and things Gary's planted over the years---it's sort of a hideaway.
It's like the Lord laid His Hand over my day before I even got up. I feel all full up.
