Holiday Chaos and the Garden Escape
The older I get, the more I realize all my romantic notions about holiday entertaining are wonderful in theory… and utterly overwhelming in practice. I’ve always fancied myself someone who loves to entertain—Pinterest boards full of dreamy tablescapes, stacks of gorgeous china, all supposedly meant to impress… but who exactly? My kids? Let’s be honest, they could not care less if the napkins match the plates or if our traditional family photo around the table is Instagram-worthy. And yet, every year, I still try.
In truth? I wish I were wired differently. I’d love to be the woman who serves holiday dinner straight from the foil pans it came in. Believe it or not, my grandma was that lady—calm, cool, and collected. Why can’t I be more like that? But then I have to ask… would I even want to be? Probably not.
When Pinterest first came out, I spent hours pinning perfect tablescapes for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and every imagined occasion in between. Blue and white china for Thanksgiving, Spode for our traditional Christmas couscous meal—every detail meticulously planned in my head.
And yet, executing any of it now often makes my brain feel tired. Honestly, why do I do this to myself? Would the meal be any less delicious if it were served on paper plates? Would I need to escape to the garden if I went a little easier on myself?
I’ll probably never know the answers, because part of me loves the chaos almost as much as I love the order. But I do know this: when the holiday whirlwind hits and that familiar edge of panic creeps in, there’s one reliable refuge I can always count on—the garden. A quiet moment with a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine while “gathering rosemary” is my reset button.
Sometimes survival means letting go of perfection and embracing the little moments of peace we can create for ourselves. And for me, that’s usually outdoors, surrounded by dirt, leaves, and the comforting reminder that no one will judge me for serving holiday dinner on paper plates… (not that I would ever do that, but still.)
…when the holiday whirlwind hits and I feel that familiar edge of panic creeping in, there’s one reliable refuge I can always count on—the garden.