HOSPITALITY BEGINS AT HOME

Opotiki News, Volume II, Issue 274, 22 December 1939, Page 6 (Supplement)

HOSPITALITY BEGINS AT HOME

By Alison Jenkins

'«jj]Y husband often remarks WW 18 —whenever Stanley ■ A k 1 has a good remark he makes it often —that hospitality begins at home. I feel impelled to remind him that his hospitality always seems to end up at home, regardless of where it began. When we were married we took a two-room and a bathette. There was a folding tub—that is, Stanley had to fold himself over to get into it. There was also what they called a dinette, which, even before all is said and done, means that you in’ the kitchen... ....

One thing we did have, was a well-stocked closet. We read all the articles in the papers on what to serve with what and when, but it sems that no matter what we had, there was always somebody who wanted something else. We tried to cater for our friends, but the people with sensitive palates who could only drink Napoleon Brandy or Vodka were usually friends of our friends whom we had never seen before (but would again). Our friends had brought them to pay off an obligation without expense. This is an old Jewish custom known as the Chain System of Crashing Par-

the" names of the people who came for Christmas dinner, I decided to put my foot down—if I could find a place to put it. Stanley and I had a quarrel about it, but we had to go down into the street to have privacy to argue. “Why not buy a house in some nice, inconvenient suburb?” he suggested. It was just a wisecrack on his part, but it struck me as a practical solution. We finally found a lonely place in Howick with a beautiful garden, a two-car garage, and room on the roadway for our own car. us about a week to oj rights. It wasSH ‘' v ®|uii week

tradespeople, and a few neighbours who wanted to welcome us and ask us to join things. It wasn’t until the following week that word got around that all was settled at the Jenkin’s. From then on we had friends six deep and in relays until the frost set in. If the scientists of the Auckland University or the Government Statistician wish to make a study of the genus Home-week-ends in his native habitat (N.B. —Being any home but his own), Stanley and I can supply them with data which we collected during the long summer weekends. * No matter how much individuals of the Species may differ, as soon as they become week-end guests they take on certain uniform characteristics. To wit : (a) They shtu^g^BfcMtfflH|

(cl) Some of them call you up to ask if they can bring anything. They then forget to bring it. (e) The creatures hibernate, spending the summer roving about the suburbs, and the cold season buried in the steamy depths of some friends apartment. (f) A characteristic habit is to take home books and bury them. The males back their cars into your bushes, dig up divots in your newly-seeded lawn, and flood your bathroom when they shower. There is one common variety that waits until dinner is announced before going up to wash his hands. In time you get used to this, and so you announce dinner five minutes before it is actually ready. Having quick reflexes, however, the subject soon learns the trick and waits until five minutes after the dinner-bell before going up. You then make it ten minutes, and he does likewise. This goes on like the eternal war between safe-makers and safe-breakers. The females don Ye Summer Cruise \ Shoppe-^yol^aijjj^^^^ perch £n -*he they'.startle ond ’ tUy^tfiey furniture. type flirts with your husband, and the lower type goes into the kitchen for a snack, and tells your cook that if she gets tired of working her fingers to the bone way out in the wilderness, she can get” her a good job in town. All the females of the North Island wash

out their stockings at night and hang them places. No week-end guest in the memory of settlers has ever been known to arrive by the bus suggested by his hostess, or that taken by any other guest. Husband and wives make a special effort to keep the host taxi-ing back and forth from the bus terminal. Of course, guests who come in their own cars do not 'present this problem. They present a couple of other problems. Feeding requires special care. The simplest thing is to have everything in the house, and to serve meals at all hours. Two luncheons are advisable —a light lunch for heavy breakfasters, and a heavy lunch for light breakfasters. And, of course, one must be prepared to cater for various diets. A large assortment of thirst quenchers is an essential. Vegetarians will expect a milk-shake at three, while the more conventional must have their tea at four. If you keep well stocked with milk, buttermilk, beer, lemonade, raspberry syrup and bottled sodas, you will find the mutations endless. The only time I was ever really stumped was when a back-to-nature addict wanted taro-juice, k The niidnight department^ rtlway'S be; »voll ■Rnost efficient way to do this to write to the nearest grocery store and say: “ Kindly send me one of everything’ in your catalogue.’' Stanley, who is very pedantic whenever he gets a minute, looked up the definition of " guest ” in our Biology. It said:". . . an insect inhabiting the nests of other insects without inflicting

much inconvenience on the original owner, except by con* suming the supply of food.” Stanley maintains that this is an understatement. But of all the orders of wild or domestic guests that came to our menagerie, the most difficult to handle were the ones who said: “ Don’t bother about me. I eat any old thing.” I have never yet encountered a specimen who eats ony old thing. This variety falls into the group that goes swimming while dinner is being served, and then eats up the scalloped salmon you had prepared for supper. He makes longdistance calls and says: " Let me know when you get the bill.” This, you learn by trial and disappointment, is a purely rhetorical statement. We conducted a series of experiments in conditioned reflexes, using the radio for apparatus. The responses were invariably the same. If one animal expressed a desire to hear a symphony concert, another would immediately want to listen to the tennis matches. We discovered a sub-species who would request a special programme and then talk all through it. Where, oh where, are the guests of yesteryear ?' The people when they were inwhen expected to, conformed to the habits of the household, and brought their own slippers ? Harold says the guests of yesteryear are the millionaires of to-day. Back in the early ’twenties people used to write bread-and-butter letters thanking their hostess for a charming visit. The only letters we ever got were those asking us not to deposit a

cheque we had ca one, or to forwa very parcel post, hers that had be the house. Stanley is a m pushed just so fai further. He had printed and tack all the doors. HOUSE .1 1. Breakfast si no extra c found in I guest. 2. Line forms < frigerator, ( 3. Management guests to back-seat ca 4. Do not foiq maid. Ma enough to 5. This is not ; farm, nurse night club, gambling d ium. It ma} but it is a p 6. If you have about the 1 we shall I have you gc 7. If you’re t mg, DO IT Unfortunately, fended. They all sense of humour I wonder if when they see th in all the papers EXCHANGE V roomed house, f car garage, garch for automobile enough to acconn people only.—S Esq., Box 001, /