When Your Time Has Come
Before I could get the last of the stemless glasses unpacked, people were already walking up to the farmhouse. I was officially going from “I can’t believe I’m about to do this” to “I’m doing this!”. Full on Thelma and Louise-right off the cliff. A summer breeze had kicked up just enough to rustle a the few of the name cards I had carefully placed along the table. I’d set them down, then the wind would shuffle them around as soon as I turned my back. Soon the place cards were light work, and the flower arrangements were next. Knowing the importance of first impressions, I was worried about every detail: the plates, the vegetable boards, the menus wrapped in twine and eucalyptus. Would they like the flowers I had handpicked and arranged from the floral wholesaler? Would anyone appreciate the pens and mini notebooks I had placed around the tables?
Despite the whirlwind in my mind, I am welcoming, calm, genial and warm. As more people showed up, something just clicked. I was finally doing The Thing I had dreamed of for so long. Where I was fearful, I suddenly became rooted. The names from attendee list were real, it wasn’t just my family and friends supporting me-it was complete strangers buying in to my passion. Someone I didn’t even know felt like I was an expert, and took a chance on me. Suddenly all the worries I had dissipated: had I picked the right kind of water, were the vegetables arranged nicely, and did anybody care about me going with cubed cheese instead of artisanal block. The answers were yes, yes and eff no.
Two months of planning and about 50 lists gave way to free-flowing conversations about everything from Netflix to my recent trip to the Houston Rodeo. I was laughing, sharing stories and anecdotes from my life-all while cleaning, chopping, prepping a deep fryer and plating dishes. At one point, ominous storm clouds gave way to sun showers and a rainbow. Mother Nature was showing out, and I took that as a green light for enjoying the moment.
And just like that, two and a half hours had gone by with four courses served and three dishes demoed. I was feeling extremely thankful for the help I had received from my husband and mom, and to the wonderful staff at Common Good City Farm (especially Josephine) for reaching out to me about creating a workshop for their summer programming. I am already working on my second workshop, Easy Does It, and recently came across an insightful quote: admire a large vineyard, cultivate a small one. In getting comfortable with excellence, habit is key. Get good at the small things, then move on to the big things.
