In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty big on traditions. Especially family traditions. Extra-specially traditions involving food.
A few years ago, it occurred to me that we didn’t have a “Halloween” tradition, so I set out a mission to remedy this situation. For some unknown reason, I decided that Halloween called for Sloppy Joes. Ever since, we have honored Halloween by passing out candy and noshing on Sloppy Joe sandwiches.
Sidebar: This tradition was a terrible idea. Sloppy Joes and trick-or-treaters do not go together. It never fails that you swoop in for a super-messy bite right when the doorbell rings. I have no good explanation for why we started this tradition. I’m sure that I stumbled across a Sloppy Joe recipe, was determined to improve upon it, chose October 31 to try it out, and the rest is history. I also have no good explanation for why we haven’t changed this tradition other than the fact that I’m stickler for “tradition”. But, I digress.
This weekend, one of my best friends from law school was in town visiting from London. It’s been years — it pains to say that it literally has been years — since she lived in the States. (Not that I blame her; if I was a single girl, I’d jump at the opportunity to live in Hong Kong and London, too! But, seriously, Lindsay, you need to come home. For real. Soon!)
There’s no way I was missing an opportunity to catch up over dinner, so our Halloween tradition quickly gave way to another tradition :: Dinner at The Porch.
Joined by another great friend, Meagan, and my hubby, Brad, we sat outside to soak up every minute of the perfect Fall weather.
We spent three hours talking a mile a minute. Even though we now lead drastically different lives and see each other only once or twice a year, it’s like we haven’t missed a beat. If left to our devices (and with unlimited funds, of course), we probably would have started a million different totally unrelated businesses by now. Ahhh, a girl can always dream, right?
We completely stuffed our faces. There were 4 people and 18 items on the bill. ‘Nough said.
And, when it was clear that we’d worn ourselves out, we said goodbye until next time, at which point I promptly passed out… fully clothed… on top of the covers… until Brad was kind enough to wake me so that I could at least wash my face and get comfy.
It didn’t matter that we didn’t get dressed up for Halloween. It didn’t matter that we missed the trick-or-treaters. It didn’t matter that we skipped the Sloppy Joes. It didn’t even matter that the Rangers lost Game 4 of the World Series (for me, anyway).
All that mattered was that we had a great time surrounded by great friends. And, to me, that’s what traditions are all about.
So, on that note, I want to open the floor to you … What are your favorite traditions? How did they become “traditions”? What makes them meaningful to you?
Sometimes sharing your traditions with others is the best way to create new ones!
P.S. Being the bad blogger that I’ve been lately, I didn’t take a single photo last night. I had Lola all packed up and ready to go, but I was way too wrapped up in the moment. As a consolation, I posted my Sloppy Joe recipe here. Enjoy it someday. Maybe even some day soon. Just not on a day where half the neighborhood will be knocking on your door. 🙂