It was near perfection in a “Martha” sort-of way. Arriving at the home of our gourmet group hosts last week, we were greeted warmly by glowing hand-carved pumpkins lining the walk and orange twinkling lights strewn with precision on the trees. Inside, freshly picked fall leaves, individually chosen for their color and symmetry, adorned the buffet table while tiny pumpkins and hand-dipped candles enhanced the tablescape.
Just perfect. Like I was walking through an in-store display at Williams-Sonoma or Pottery Barn. The décor seemed right out of the pages of one of the many home magazines I so love. I was in awe, and a teensy bit intimidated.
Why? Because the next event of our little culinary-minded group was at our house and now, I was more than a little daunted. How can I possibly ever live up to the incredibly high decorating standard just set. What to do? What to do?!! Okay, WWMD? (What would Martha do?)
And, then it hit me, I have my own secret weapon - I know Martha! Well, I mean, we’re not exactly BFFs, but I have met her. A long time ago, at a party she hosted in a large hotel, in a room with about two thousand of her other closest friends. Yup, I’m sure she’ll remember me and help me make things perfectly perfect in a “it’s a good thing” way.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring.
Me: “Hello, Martha? Do you remember me? It’s Annie, from the Wedding Channel Couture Show fifteen years ago.”
Martha: “Who is this?”
Me: “It’s me Martha, it’s Annie. Don’t you remember me?”
Martha: “Sorry, who are you again?”
Me: “It doesn’t matter, but I L-O-V-E your style and I think you’re a genius! I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I’ve had a subscription to Martha Stewart Living Magazine since the very first one in 1990 and have kept them all. I really, really, really need your help.”
Martha (warming up a bit): “Well, yes, now that you mention it, I guess I am kind of a genius. What is it that you want?”
I quickly gave her the low-down. I had been chosen to host the social event of the year - the Annual Holiday Gathering of the Neighborhood Women’s “We Love to Decorate and Throw Parties” Group. At my home! It was quite an honor and I didn’t want to mess it up.
To make the pressure even more intense, I would be vying for the coveted “Martha Award,” the annual honor bestowed on the hostess whose talent best expressed “Martha-ism” in her decor and entertaining prowess. Previous winners had been known to grow their own special variety of Easter grass to line Easter baskets. One even planted and harvested their own Christmas tree, decorating it with glass ornaments that they had hand-blown in their kitchen.
And, so, for the next three hours I listened intently as Martha explained in minute detail just how to prepare for and deliver the most amazing party imaginable. I took copious notes on how to make my tablescape shine. It would include hand crafted teeny, tiny Christmas trees, fashioned from individual branches of pine that I would personally prune from trees in the nearby Sierra Nevada mountains. I would decorate them with handmade tinsel crafted from specially selected foil. Create my own candles scented with frankincense and myrrh from Martha’s own private collection And follow instructions on how to churn my own butter for the very best Christmas Sugar cookies.
Sigh. While I was still feeling a bit overwhelmed, having Martha on my side eased the pressure. I could do this. I could be the perfect hostess. All it took was being just like Martha.
“Honey, honey - wake up!”
I felt a gentle nudge on my shoulder and my hubby’s voice in my ear. “You’re having a nightmare. Wake Up. You fell asleep reading your Martha Stewart Living magazine again. It’s ok.”
Whew! My home will be ready when our guests come for our holiday party. It will be lovely – decorated with Party City’s best and a centerpiece made in school by my grandson. Not quite a Martha-ism scene...you know, I’m so not Martha!
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