Fucking Good Ham

I woke up this morning to a very disheveld kitchen and dining room. But this morning, I didn't care. Because on mornings like today, I am truly happy to clean up. Huzb and I love to entertain. We love good conversation, we love our friends and family, we are gluttons for good food and drink, and most importantly we love the sound of laughter. We've been together now for 4 years, but almost three of those four were spent away from home. We made some new friends quickly, and shared some great times, but there really is nothing like good old friends. Last night we hosted a dinner party for 8. It was a cornucopia of celebrations, a rejuvenation of sorts: our new house, pregnancies and babies, our first Christmas back in town as husband and wife, retunrning to a bit of the norm, our friends - both old and new. Perhaps a little more on the alert as I'm currently the sober one, I found myself observing. How we have changed and how we have stayed the same. The new faces that are now amongst us and what wonderful dymanics this brings. As I was cleaning up the dishes and crackers and toys, as I rinsed the wine glasses and collected the corks, all I heard was laguhter and all I felt was joy. And then the words FUCKING GOOD HAM popped into my head. Over the course of the night a joke had spawned from an old tv skit and quickly turned into the running joke. The ham, which had been coveted by the Huzb and is a longstanding tradition on his side of the family, was a really fucking good ham! And hence, the connection. Perhaps a tradition in the making? An annual Fucking Good Ham party? It will surely be served with all of the above.