Last year we celebrated in my house. She was alone, with children well to note, I was alone with the children, and we invited a single friend who had nothing more exciting to do.
There is only one thing more sorry than to celebrate something and you are the only adult, and that is to be utterly alone. (I've tried both, so I know a little about that.)
Children have so much to do, and they will happily do things on their own, so you are left to have soulful conversations with yourself. One can always knit, but how fun is that, on New Year's Eve, when you know the entire world is out there welcoming the new year having a blast?
Anyway, a year ago we were three ladies and three children, and we had a real nice evening. A lot of good food, snacks and good-natured fireworks.
This year (or, strictly speaking, last year, but you know what I mean) we were invited home to her family.
That is ... until she called me and told that she had lent her house to her son, who had invited so many guests with babies, that they were tight on room when the babies should sleep.
BUT we were welcome to spend the evening in his apartment.
Well, it's not exactly the same as being in a familiar and accustomed place, so I said that we could be at my place.
Since she had invited us, and then given away "the premises" to someone else, she insisted on cooking. She is so generous that it sometimes becomes a strain, but it is always well intended ... and it's really heart-warming to be taken care of like that. Annoying because I can make do on my own, but at the same time nice.
She arrived bringing turkey, sprouts, ready peeled potatoes ... a pot with some carrots (the rest lay in her driveway, but she had a pack of carrots for me to peel), a delightful mashed rutabaga and sauce.
A single friend was bringing a Waldorf salad (someone other than the previously mentioned ... but she also came; they both had nothing better to do).
I went to the store to buy milk, and met a woman I know who said they had no plans, so I invited them as well. The more, the merrier. She insisted on bringing something. She couldn't come without bringing something to the table... so we agreed she could bring a cake.
Just before dinner on New Year's Eve, I learned that a neighbor family would be celebrating alone, so I sent a text message and asked them over after dinner. They could certainly come to dinner, but I knew they had already cooked a tasty meal.
The guests arrived and waited for us to serve dinner. While waiting, my friend's husband found every adult a unique mug and offered the adults coffee. I tried to tell him where the good cups were, but he didn't listen. Our diverse collection of mugs with photos, commercials, soccer teams, names and chips were handed out and appreciated. That's when I tell myself "I'm just normal, we all have those mugs, the difference is just they probably hide them when having people over. Oh, why didn't I hide them? Why didn't I find the good cups and set them on the counter before they arrived? Men!"
My frustration didn't last long. It's not the night for being hung up on petty details.
For dinner we were a healthy bunch of 16 people. Lovely! Then came more guests, and it was time for the children's first round of fireworks. We never buy big packs with large rockets, but there is a lot of the smaller kind which makes noise and sparks and that kids like.
The dog behaved fine, with only a few, frustrated yelps, but he got so much attention that he completely forgot about all the bangs, howls and milling outside.
And there was coffee ... the kids came, grabbed a treat and quickly disappeared into the basement to play games... and the TV was off, that alone was absolutely lovely.
In Norway, when we invite someone over for coffee, or we "have coffee" during a party, there is always cake, cookies, ice-cream and/or sweets. It's like a meal holding everything you shouldn't eat. Ever so yummy!
We had barely swallowed away the first sip of coffee before a father burst out "Hey! Look at the clock, only 5 minutes to midnight! We must get out! Get the kids!"
Jackets, shoes, protective goggles, sparklers and lighters lying in a huge pile in the hallway, was quickly sorted, put on or put in pockets.
The rest of us adults came rambling along in a more leisurely pace and we managed to get outside in time, shout "Happy New Year!", throw our arms around everybody's neck to steal a lot of good and warm hugs, before we went back inside to finish our coffee.
The men, and those who needed some extra fresh air, were left to supervise the kids and the fireworks.
They kept going for a long time. A very long time.
We forgot about the champagne. We forgot about the non alcoholic pink champagne for the kids.
It turned out to be a family-friendly celebration of the new year. High spirits, good humor and good friends.
Some might say that it was hospitable to open the house in this way, but it's really not. The house has room for people, and I am not afraid of anything breaking or a little mess. Besides, guests are usually very good at doing the dishes. I am eternally grateful that I have people around me who did not want me to be alone.
Although I am often alone (I even thrive in my own, quirky company), I don't really mind. I am never lonely, you see. But sometimes it's good to have company.
I try to follow the golden rule: Invite others into your life. Kind of strange, since as a person I am rather private, I really don't reveal too much about myself, but I do enjoy the company of others. It's not certain they accept the invitation, but give them the opportunity to choose.
Having the option makes all the difference.
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A lot of fun here, New Year's Eve.
I really didn't mind picking it all up the next day, in the rain and wind, it was quite ok, actually.
Besides, there were some young guests who did a great job collecting much of it in a pile.
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