Normally, I have a formal dinner party for Christmas every year and this year it was scheduled for Sunday the sixteenth. You know. The day after Rob got back from Iceland. Why would I do something like that? Because, our friend Jodi was in town and leaving on the 17th, which meant that the only night possible was the night after Rob got back.

This was fine. We’d talked about it and made our plans and everything was fine. Then I got the call to go to Iceland. At this point the party started to get dicey, but I’d already mailed the invitations and I’ve done it so many times that I felt like I could pull it off. The only thing that made me really nervous was that I had to work on Sunday and would only get home an hour before the party started. I’d done that before too, so I knew I could handle it by prepping all the food the day before and leaving Rob instructions about what to put in the oven and when.

And then Rob’s travel karma kicked in. He got the the airport two hours early and it took three hours to clear security. He called me from Detroit. I knew his itinerary and Detroit was not in the picture. He was supposed to arrive home at 1:10 and was now scheduled for 7:00. I got off the phone with him and started calling people to cancel the party.

My friend, Sue, suggested that I tell people to come anyway and to bring a finger food. Brilliant. So that’s what we did. While it was did not satisfy my craving to host a dinner party, it was wonderful to see everyone. The food was outstanding too; my friends can cook. So, all told, it was a successful party, but I’m still going to have to have a sit-down affair later. I think it’s the tables set with china and silver that makes me all happy.

The tricky thing is figuring out when.