baxter sez

We had our first social event at 575 Rutledge tonight--not a party, as Walter kept reminding me ("party" sounds much more elaborate and planned than what we were up to) but a gathering or, as one Charlestonian put it, a drop-in. We started inviting folks on Monday. Our invitation said:

YOU
are invited to a get-together
to celebrate the nice people (you)
we've met since we moved to Charleston.
...get a gift just for stopping by...

It was a blast! A lot of folks from the English Department came, and some Women's and Gender Studies folks who live in the neighborhood, along with--as the invitation suggests--nice people we've met. David, who worked with Walter at Bean Central back in the day, and Wendy and their son Seth. Sean, who went to grad school with me and now teaches at the Citadel. Fred, our realtor. Loads of kids who entertained themselves in our sandbox yard. Apparently the appropriate food for a drop-in is wine, beer, and cheese, and we had all of those in abundance. I also made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (one of my three specialty dishes--the other two being fudge pie and granola). There were kids walking around with chocolate smeared on their faces all evening.

I was glad to have people in the house; it felt like a kind of inaguration. At one point I joked with a group on the back porch that I'm trying to bribe folks into being friends with me because the friend transition has been and will be one of my biggest hurdles in leaving Nashville. I really do feel like walking up to people and saying, "I need you to be my friend!" I recognize that building a community here will take time, but it was pretty gratifying to be able to pull together a shaggy semblance of community on such short notice. Oh, and the gifts just for stopping by: we gave away a bunch of random stuff that we like, or that gives a little insight into us--everything from boxes of Goo Goos to Listerine strips to a bottle of Astroglide.

Okay, here are some photos of the rest of the rooms of the house, for those of you who have been anxiously awaiting further documentation of the unbelievable hipness in which Walter and I are living.

In the living room, Baxter's sitting right in front of Walter's big-ass TV. The empty room is the room we're trying to rent out. Alas, Eddie Cosmic--our fortuitously named first potential renter--never called back, and since then we've had several nibbles but no bites. My office is pretty ugly still, but looking better. And the bedroom is looking great--Walter made the bed, which is called One Slow Cousin.