Party House
Aug. 22nd, 2006 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
livingdebOur hosts had a total party house, especially the back yard. There was enough seating for everyone inside, and enough outside. They had horseshoes. And they had a similar game they called washers. And bocce ball. And a tree house, with a zipline. And fearless teenagers to demonstrate how to ride down the zipline, and let go of it and veer to the side instead of slamming into the tree. We've got a picture of my 82-year-old aunt on that zipline. It's posed, but fun.
We also played the game where someone falls asleep and so other people gleefully do things to him. In this case, he got four fingernails painted with dark purplish red polish. (It was too hard to reach the other nails.)
The host also built a fire in a tub from an old wringer washer which was set on a fireplace stand which was set on concrete garden tiles over the very green grass which mere sparks could not ignite. I liked that feel of all sitting around a campfire. The washtub did start glowing in a few places.
Our host said you can still buy ringer-washers brand new. People want them because they are environmentally healthy or something, even though these are the motorized kind that you don't have to crank yourself. (I found an article explaining why wringer washers are frugal, and it seems to be because you can re-use the wash water and rinse water for three or more loads, getting clothes cleaner than you can in modern washers.) For those who are even more ignorant on this device than myself, the ringer is made of basically two rolling-pins aligned with each other, and you push clothes through them to wring the water out so the clothes will dry more quickly. Mom said she could wash, dry, and fold six loads in three hours using a ringer-washer and clothes lines if it was a nice day (warm and breezy). But you are working the entire three hours. (I found an article on how to use a wringer washer.)
And there were loads of yummy food available at all times.
Quotes:
“I had to go to the bathroom so bad, my eyeballs were floating.” - Mom
“I don't think the raccoons have lawyers yet.” - Bruce
“I'm going to put your head in the fire. And then we're gonna all go to jail because you all let me.” - Matt
Domestic tip of the day: If you have a double sink and a dishwasher, and you are installing a garbage disposal in one of your sinks, pick the sink closer to the dishwasher. This way you can have clean dishes drying in the other sink, and be loading half-rinsed dishes from the first sink to the dishwasher without dripping all over the clean dishes. Like my mom has to now because someone installed hers on the wrong side.
**
I am not good at these kinds of parties. I'm not sure what I mean by "these kinds of parties." Big, definitely. Full of strangers? Full of relatives?
I did not play any horseshoes or washers or slide down the (very, very scary) zipline or even go in the tree house or even look closely at the tree house. This was partly because if no one was using these things, it felt like I didn't belong snooping around. And if people were using these things, I'd feel like I was intruding. And I didn't think I would be any good at horseshoes or washers. (Although I did finally try throwing some washers, and it wasn't that embarrassing. I was just as good as the nine-year-old, throwing them quite close to the box that had the holes into which we were aiming.)
I never quite hit it off with anyone, probably because I didn't do much talking. When there are a lot of people, if you do the appropriate percentage of talking, that's not much.
I just sat. And also ate. (So did lots of other people, actually.)
Someone talked about going for a walk, and I did join in on that. At one point the group split into two. One group was going along the road toward the pond. The other group was taking a route over a bride and into the brush to get to the pond. I went with the latter group, which was made up of two nine-year-olds.
And I was really dying to walk around the neighborhood to get a closer look at some of the plants, and finally I did actually do this, and my sister joined me.
All this lack of activity is in stark contrast to that of the main character of the book I brought along to read on the flight. I was looking through books from Robin's parents' house, and when I found one that was about a guy who had been warned not to attend a family reunion, but then went anyway, I knew this was the book to bring. (My mother picked out a book with a plane crash.)
Well, the reunion in this book doesn't have any activities other than eating and people yelling at each other. But the main character goes around asking questions that are none of his business, snooping in people's rooms, taking off and wandering around the island, listening in on people's private conversations, totally ignoring his girlfriend most of the time, etc. This character is known for going too far in the directions of snooping and foot-in-mouth disease (and, after all, it turns into a murder mystery where the main character is not a professional detective of any kind), but there's probably some sort of happy medium.
How much do you expect people to wander off and start, say, looking through your books, exploring your attic, riding your bicycle, playing your games, I don't know. I deliberately leave things I want people looking through in the living room--my more interesting books are there, my coin and rock collections, all musical instruments, CDs and movies, games, that sort of thing. Then in the back rooms are things like clothes, reference books, office supplies, and other more boring stuff that would not make good conversation starters. Yet I can't imagine pulling a game off someone's shelf and starting to play it. I have, in really big parties where I know virtually no one, especially if they all start getting too drunk for me to enjoy but the other person in my vehicle wants me to stay, resorted to pulling books off shelves and looking through them or reading them.
Mostly I just stand around listening to other people's conversations and making rare contributions to them. And when I know people I catch up with them. And I'm good at eating--I'm not one of these people who is embarrassed to be the first one to check out the food table, except I do have the problem of not wanting to be the one to cut into something like a cake. (I'm getting better, though, raaga123!)
It's sad that there were all these interesting people at the reunion, and I did not acquire any new friends. On the other hand, the advantage of my sad and crappy method of party attendance is that I also did not acquire any new stalkers.
We also played the game where someone falls asleep and so other people gleefully do things to him. In this case, he got four fingernails painted with dark purplish red polish. (It was too hard to reach the other nails.)
The host also built a fire in a tub from an old wringer washer which was set on a fireplace stand which was set on concrete garden tiles over the very green grass which mere sparks could not ignite. I liked that feel of all sitting around a campfire. The washtub did start glowing in a few places.
Our host said you can still buy ringer-washers brand new. People want them because they are environmentally healthy or something, even though these are the motorized kind that you don't have to crank yourself. (I found an article explaining why wringer washers are frugal, and it seems to be because you can re-use the wash water and rinse water for three or more loads, getting clothes cleaner than you can in modern washers.) For those who are even more ignorant on this device than myself, the ringer is made of basically two rolling-pins aligned with each other, and you push clothes through them to wring the water out so the clothes will dry more quickly. Mom said she could wash, dry, and fold six loads in three hours using a ringer-washer and clothes lines if it was a nice day (warm and breezy). But you are working the entire three hours. (I found an article on how to use a wringer washer.)
And there were loads of yummy food available at all times.
Quotes:
“I had to go to the bathroom so bad, my eyeballs were floating.” - Mom
“I don't think the raccoons have lawyers yet.” - Bruce
“I'm going to put your head in the fire. And then we're gonna all go to jail because you all let me.” - Matt
Domestic tip of the day: If you have a double sink and a dishwasher, and you are installing a garbage disposal in one of your sinks, pick the sink closer to the dishwasher. This way you can have clean dishes drying in the other sink, and be loading half-rinsed dishes from the first sink to the dishwasher without dripping all over the clean dishes. Like my mom has to now because someone installed hers on the wrong side.
**
I am not good at these kinds of parties. I'm not sure what I mean by "these kinds of parties." Big, definitely. Full of strangers? Full of relatives?
I did not play any horseshoes or washers or slide down the (very, very scary) zipline or even go in the tree house or even look closely at the tree house. This was partly because if no one was using these things, it felt like I didn't belong snooping around. And if people were using these things, I'd feel like I was intruding. And I didn't think I would be any good at horseshoes or washers. (Although I did finally try throwing some washers, and it wasn't that embarrassing. I was just as good as the nine-year-old, throwing them quite close to the box that had the holes into which we were aiming.)
I never quite hit it off with anyone, probably because I didn't do much talking. When there are a lot of people, if you do the appropriate percentage of talking, that's not much.
I just sat. And also ate. (So did lots of other people, actually.)
Someone talked about going for a walk, and I did join in on that. At one point the group split into two. One group was going along the road toward the pond. The other group was taking a route over a bride and into the brush to get to the pond. I went with the latter group, which was made up of two nine-year-olds.
And I was really dying to walk around the neighborhood to get a closer look at some of the plants, and finally I did actually do this, and my sister joined me.
All this lack of activity is in stark contrast to that of the main character of the book I brought along to read on the flight. I was looking through books from Robin's parents' house, and when I found one that was about a guy who had been warned not to attend a family reunion, but then went anyway, I knew this was the book to bring. (My mother picked out a book with a plane crash.)
Well, the reunion in this book doesn't have any activities other than eating and people yelling at each other. But the main character goes around asking questions that are none of his business, snooping in people's rooms, taking off and wandering around the island, listening in on people's private conversations, totally ignoring his girlfriend most of the time, etc. This character is known for going too far in the directions of snooping and foot-in-mouth disease (and, after all, it turns into a murder mystery where the main character is not a professional detective of any kind), but there's probably some sort of happy medium.
How much do you expect people to wander off and start, say, looking through your books, exploring your attic, riding your bicycle, playing your games, I don't know. I deliberately leave things I want people looking through in the living room--my more interesting books are there, my coin and rock collections, all musical instruments, CDs and movies, games, that sort of thing. Then in the back rooms are things like clothes, reference books, office supplies, and other more boring stuff that would not make good conversation starters. Yet I can't imagine pulling a game off someone's shelf and starting to play it. I have, in really big parties where I know virtually no one, especially if they all start getting too drunk for me to enjoy but the other person in my vehicle wants me to stay, resorted to pulling books off shelves and looking through them or reading them.
Mostly I just stand around listening to other people's conversations and making rare contributions to them. And when I know people I catch up with them. And I'm good at eating--I'm not one of these people who is embarrassed to be the first one to check out the food table, except I do have the problem of not wanting to be the one to cut into something like a cake. (I'm getting better, though, raaga123!)
It's sad that there were all these interesting people at the reunion, and I did not acquire any new friends. On the other hand, the advantage of my sad and crappy method of party attendance is that I also did not acquire any new stalkers.
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no subject
on 2006-08-23 07:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-08-23 02:35 pm (UTC)The book you describe sounds a little like DISTANT BLOOD by Jeff Abbott. Is it?
my theories on cake cutting
on 2006-08-23 06:54 pm (UTC)Everyone else must be like you -- wistful, but too shy to make the first cut. So I am doing most people a favor by taking that first step.
Allow me to offer as supporting evidence to my cutting-quickly-is-a-favor-to-everyone theory the speed at which subsequent slices usually disappear.
Plus the added bonus of guaranteed piece for me. *happy smile*
no subject
on 2006-08-24 12:33 am (UTC)