Last Christmas, having little disposable income (now, there's a surprise....sigh) we invited the neighbors in the two closest houses to "Soup Night", every Wednesday in January and February. The basic premise was that I would make a huge pot of soup, and I would provide bowls and utensils. Anyone could come, anyone could bring a guest, no one had to rsvp or anything. You could come emptyhanded if you were having a rough week or you could bring a salad, a dessert, bread, or a bottle of wine. But no one needed to plan what they would bring ahead of time. Some weeks we had just the core of eight people, and some weeks we had over 30. I think nearly eighty different people were here at least one of the weeks. We met people who lived nearby who know our neighbors well, but whom we'd only waved to in passing. We introduced out-of-town friends who were passing through to everyone, and our grown kids, who decided this was extremely cool, brought their friends and co-workers home from other parts of the state. Some weeks we had a good balance of food; some weeks we had five desserts and no salad, and one memorable week we had six bottles of wine, one loaf of bread, and the soup. A neighbor on a fixed income brought one apple each of fourteen varieties, and we had a sampling session for dessert one night. No one ever left hungry, and everyone stayed, every week, until the 10 pm deadline we'd agreed on earlier. As a result of our Soup Nights, we've pooled resources to rent equipment, swapped odds and ends that have accumulated on our properties, traded stories about experiences with local servicepeople and vendors, introduced each other to new people, heard local history from old-time residents, swapped services, helped each other out. We shared recipes and celebrated my son's engagement together and mourned the loss of a neighbor's beloved dog. We listened to bluegrass one week, classical the next, jazz the next. We commiserated over the high cost of, well, everything, and shared worries about the war. I really only started it because it was winter, I was bored and lonely, and I wanted to do something interesting for Christmas for our neighbors. But the end results were just incredible. People stop me in the hardware store and ask if we're doing it again next year (we are) and could they come some night. I didn't, initially, think of it as a hard-times sort of thing - but it is. Not only did that pot of soup stretch incredibly far, we forged a sense of community that had previously been lacking. We all miss it, but agreed that January and February was the perfect time for it, and we're looking forward to Soup Nights next year. katie

Before I went to college, a hundred years ago, the student counselor suggested I spend the summer working with different age groups to narrow which area of psychology I wanted to specialize in. I worked in a nursing home for only a month as it just broke my heart. An experience has stayed with me all these years. One of my patients was Bess. Her mind was gone. She thought her bed was her house, the closet for her clothes was a pantry. She told me the flower arrangement was her potatoes. She would be moving her hands and said she was peeling potatoes or making some kind of food for dinner. It was all so real to her. I took time to talk to her and we would plan picnics as she had said she liked picnics. She went from one subject to another in a matter of a few minutes. One day Bess lay there with one arm stretched up. I tried to get her to lay it down to be more comfortable. She acted like she couldn't do that so I tried to get her attention on something else. I had noticed when I first met her she wore a man's watch. I commented that day that it was such a nice watch. Her expression changed, she lowered her arm and told me," this was Chris's watch, he loved me very much" and she began to cry. I held her and comforted her. I later asked the supervisor who Chris was and she told me he was Bess's husband that had died years ago. My heart sunk, my throat tightened as it was such a beautiful thing. To think that with beds being houses, a closet now a pantry to her and the flowers were potatoes, she still knew the love she and her husband shared. It says in the bible that "love endures all things". It certainly does. Some days while caring for someone, we'd like to just hide in a closet or run outside and scream. When all is said and done, you are doing what you do out of love. It may not seem so but the person you are caring for knows this. There mind is in a state we can't really understand their thinking. However, they do know love. Keep strong and find some time for you and know you are not alone. Lynn

Most of the work is done by a month out in my experience. If you have a wedding consultant, my experience was that they have a great referral list for people who are talented and reliable. Otherwise, the bride will need to get solid referrals for all the people the bride will hire--invitations, calligraphy, flowers, cake, music, caterer, photographer(s), decorating, etc. She will also know when you need a push or when you are on time and use a planning schedule. And she'll be a great source of advice for helping you make all sorts of decisions that will result in a beautiful day. On the wedding day, the planner is great with helping with any bridesmaid or bride dressing emergencies, and then in keeping all the parts of the event going so that there is no lag time or slip ups. I was able to enjoy more of the wedding because she was on the job.

Gloria, I see that your post was removed and I'm sorry that I missed it. Everyone has to have a first post; I don't know why yours was assumed to be Spam. Welcome to THS/HOUZZ. If you have a recommendation for a gift I'd like to see it. Would you please repost?