A Time to Laugh

Oh, friends. It has been more than a minute since I last posted an update here! Since I popped to give you news of my upcoming book, Glad & Golden Hours: A Companion for Advent and Christmastide the days have been full and sweet. I spent the first quarter of 2024 polishing and finalizing the manuscript, which involved long winter days writing like mad (when I’m under a deadline I often take to my bed, Edith Wharton-style, with my laptop and notebooks), but I was thankful for both the space and the grace to do such deep work. For someone who loves to cook, I have very little recollection of what we ate during those weeks, but Philip managed to keep us afloat with lots of his delicious quesadillas and homemade pizza!

In April we saw the book off to press, which was cause for the first round of celebrations that have characterized this year. But we scarcely had a minute to pop the cork on a bottle of champagne before it was time to get the garden in (my poor seedlings were languishing and leggy in the potting shed) and start preparing for a much-anticipated vacation with my entire family. It was the first time we had all been together since last August, and I kept saying that this blessed week was my Christmas this year. And it really felt like it, for all the beach walks and bike rides and fresh seafood we consumed, for on the first morning everyone spontaneously produced presents for one another. And, as a special surprise for my siblings, I made the sacrosanct Christmas morning casserole that my mother made for us every year (the recipe is in the book!)—when my sister caught the scent wafting out of the kitchen, her eyes filled with tears. I write a lot in Glad & Golden Hours about how the only thing that gives meaning to our holiday traditions is the relationships that they serve—with God and with other people—but this week at the beach with my precious ones extended that message far beyond the holidays.

After my family had scattered back to their parts of the world (taking the world’s most doted-upon nephew and niece with them), I just had time to catch my breath before a summer of work and travel and house-guests, and I used that wee pause to plan and pray over two momentous events: our 25^th wedding anniversary in June and my 50^th birthday in July. Even with all the good things we had going on, and with the launch campaign for the book gathering momentum, I knew that it was mightily important for us to clear space to celebrate these milestones in a big way. Life is hard—the past decade has taught me nothing if not that—but I have learned that the sorrows and struggles only serve to throw the goodness of God into sharp relief. It seemed imperative to acknowledge that goodness in a joyfully embodied way.

We had already planned a special getaway to Cumberland Island for our anniversary, which was every bit as magical as I’d hoped it would be, but the convergence of these two events demanded a little something more. Something more like…a party!

“I have no idea what I’m going to serve,” I told Philip. “But there will be buckets of champagne.”

As it turned out, I feel like my mother helped me plan the menu, for it came in its entirety from one of her cookbooks (Comfortable Entertaining, by Nathalie Dupree). I followed the author’s recommendations to the letter, preparing almost all of the food in advance and serving it cold or at room temperature—perfect for a Southern summer night. And as the party was on my actual birthday, it meant that I was able to savor the final preparations without running myself ragged. I can honestly say that I have never enjoyed a party I’ve thrown more than that one. I mined memories of our wedding for flowers and color schemes, and my friend Rachel recreated the topper that my sister had made for our original wedding cake with lavender and baby’s breath. I even dug the wire cones we’d used as pew baskets out of the attic—still threaded with pink organza ribbon—and my same Rachel filled them with blush roses and blue delphinium and white stock and silver-leaved dusty miller, all reminiscent of my wedding day.

It all turned out beautifully—more beautifully than I could have imagined—but the most beautiful thing of all, of course, was the sight of my rooms crowded with people who have made and born witness to our story. Bridesmaids and groomsmen; new friends and old. Our priest; my sisters and brothers-in-law; Mama’s friends who were like extra mothers to me and Daddy’s best friend, Frank, who photographed our wedding and captured this evening perfectly. The air was full of laughter and conversation and good jazz, and I cherished every single second of it. After the griefs of the past few years, it was a glimpse of heaven. And it tasted like champagne.

There were other milestones this summer, not the least of which was holding my very first book in my hands for the very first time (oh, friends—it’s so beautiful! Jennifer Trafton’s illustrations are positively luminous!). And it occurred to me that I’m also celebrating 25 years of living in my beloved old farmhouse—we had our wedding reception in the backyard, and the first thing my mother-in-law said to me when Philip and I arrived from the church was, “Welcome home.” What a story is contained in those two words, one threaded with all the highs and lows of loving a place and committing to it in a sacramental way. I’m still mulling over how to mark this anniversary meaningfully, and to invite you into its spaces, if only virtually.

But that shall have to wait for another post! For now, I wish you all peace and an abundance of all that makes your heart sing.

(Oh! And don’t forget—preorders are still open for Glad & Golden Hours! Owing to some shipping delays, the release date has been moved back from September 9^th to October 1^st, but I have it on good authority that they’re safely on terra firma and will soon be speeding to their new homes! If you’d like to keep abreast of book-related news, giveaways, and events—including a launch day virtual tea!—head over to our book website, gladandgolden.com and sign up for our newsletter!)