I didn’t want to wait another minute to report back on our big night out at the Yacht Club.

First off, thank you to everyone who came to my rescue with wardrobe advice!

Who knew I had so many stylists on this list?

I was apparently ready to show up dressed for a gala when the invite really meant “casual dinner with nice people who own irons.”

Laura (along with Wendy, our hosts and neighbors) — who I completely forgot is on this subscriber list, oops — texted me to gently inform me it was more casual than cocktail.

Translation: Put the sequins back, Hedy.

Another oops, and talk about a small world, Laurie (also a subscriber and fellow dinner guest), my apologies for sending you into wardrobe panic mode when you had it right all along.

Then I learned from our ever-gracious hosts that there’s a category called “smart casual.”
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Which, near as I can tell, means “don’t embarrass us, but also don’t sparkle under the chandelier.”
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You officially have their permission to use this phrase the next time you host — your guests will think you’re every bit as stylish and up-to-date as Wendy and Laura.

Anyway, the evening was fabulous.

It felt like a throwback to when Steve and I used to host dinners, before our guest lists became mostly compost piles and dahlias.

The hardest part of any dinner party, I’ve learned, is gathering a group of people who don’t really know each other but somehow just click.

It’s like casting a show where everyone’s unscripted and still manages to be entertaining.

It’s social alchemy at its finest, and Wendy and Laura absolutely nailed it.

The food was delicious, the view was breathtaking, and the conversation? Sparkling.

One topic that came up: card games.

Laurie asked if anyone played bridge (she’s trying to start a group). Crickets.

Then someone mentioned Mahjong, and suddenly, every woman at the table raised her hand.

Except me. (You know me, I’m all in on farming, not tiles.)

Apparently Mahjong is having a moment.

Joan told us about a woman she knows, a nuclear physicist (or something equally genius), who quit science to teach Mahjong.
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Then, the next day, Steve gets off the phone with his brother and casually mentions that Bunny (his wife) just started Mahjong lessons.

Excuse me?

Was there a group text I missed?

Is this a nationwide movement?

I’m beginning to think I need to find myself a tutor and get my derriere in gear.

Who’s in? We’ll call ourselves The Blooming Tiles.

Farm Happenings

Meanwhile, back on the farm, we’ve been haunting local nurseries and big-box stores like horticultural bounty hunters.

The result? Over twenty new trees and shrubs that all need planting.

Immediately.

I’ll send out a little recap this week of what’s on sale, what we purchased, and which nurseries are having sales.

P.S. I love your replies, yes, even the ones about sequins vs. sensible shoes. Tell me: are you on Team Mahjong? Should we form an official Seashore Flower Farm league?

P.P.S. If you’re new here and want to catch up on my previous musings, you can find all the past newsletters posted on our blog page at our website.

P.P.P.S. Forward this to a friend who could use a laugh (or a Mahjong partner). They can join the fun and subscribe at SeashoreFlowerFarm.com.