Sylvia and the Haints in the House party

October 13, 2016

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Debug that Southern decor

acorns
It all started when Sylvia volunteered to host the “Haints in the House” Halloween party at her home, which featured an award winning heritage live oak tree in the front yard. Other members of Montgomery’s prestigious “Holiday Club” had already claimed the “Easter Bonnet Brunch,” “Luck of the Irish Lunch,” and the coveted, “Christmas Wonderland Dinner.” Since Southern ladies go crazy over joining clubs, there was always a waiting list to get in this fun group.
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It was a miracle Sylvia had been invited to join the club at all, since she was born in Ohio to a mother who was originally from Michigan, and had only moved to Montgomery when she married an Auburn engineer who was temporarily working in the north. Just like the ladies down at Brenda’s Bodacious Beauty Barn, Sylvia’s roots often showed, but her friends found her fascinating, and swooned over the cheese straws she had learned to make from her Alabama mother-in-law. Looking at Sylvia with eyes of love, and a speck of concern, her mother-in-law told her, “knowing how to make a good cheese straw will open doors for you in this town.”

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Last year, poor Sylvia made a crucial mistake when she hosted the “Valentine’s Day is for Lover’s Luncheon.” The ladies of the club were shocked (or at least properly acted like they were), by Sylvia’s centerpiece which featured covers from steamy romance novels. All was forgiven, since her friends really did love her, and never once (at least to her face) mentioned the suggestive “hot” chocolate dessert again.

Determined to make up for the Valentine’s Day faux pas, Sylvia threw herself into planning the “Haints in the House” party. There was no way she could ever outdo Eula Mae Finklebottom’s Groundhog’s Day Soiree’ where a real groundhog had been displayed on the front porch in a cage built to look like Tara. How she ever got that little top hat to stay on his head, no one knew, but Sylvia was determined to make her party just as memorable.

 

This observant transplant had learned three things from living in Alabama. 1. This group would rather die of dehydration than drink anything straight from a can. 2. Deviled egg plates are a real thing and must be used. 3. As long as she didn’t try to tell these new friends how much better people did it up north, she was accepted and adored for being herself.

For the autumnal theme, Sylvia filled several clear vases with large acorns gathered from her award winning heritage live oak tree, then topped each with a swirl of Spanish moss and votive candle. Remembering Eula Mae’s mantra, “a fluffy bow is the way to go,” she tied poufy orange bows around the vases — making them both precious and darling. Pinterest had come in handy again, just as Google had helped her know exactly what a “haint” was.

Everything was ready when the ladies arrived, and after awarding prizes for the most adorable costumes, everyone moved into the dining room, only to stop dead in their tracks and gasp at the horrifying sight of tiny worms and mites crawling out of the acorns and Spanish moss. Sylvia didn’t know that anything gathered from nature South of the Mason-Dixon line always had to be de-bugged in a microwave or hot oven to kill any lurking insects. It was a tiny detail Pinterest overlooked.

After grabbing the vases and flinging the contents off the back porch while screaming their heads off, the ladies of the Holiday Club made the best of the evening and once they had a glass or two (or four) of “Witches Brew,” admitted it was the best Halloween performance art they’d ever seen. Never once, did they consider asking Sylvia to leave their club because they admired her determination, and after all was said and done, her cheese straws had been successfully snatched away from the bugs . . . and were absolutely delicious.

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