Hospitality and Hosting–How We Built and Nurture Community

In 2025, I was on the struggle bus both physically and mentally, but there was one goal I set for myself: host more.

I’ve seen the statement on social media many times: “Everyone wants a village, but no one wants to be a villager.” I get it. People are overtaxed, overextended, and the economy is a dumpster fire. Life is just different.

But my mom ingrained in me the magic of hospitality, and that it’s a gift you give to those you love. I remember one time, after an all-night field party, I came home with four classmates with no notice (and we were hungover and hangry). Mom simply fixed everyone a plate and offered them cake for dessert. My friends were in awe and asked to come back next week. She instilled in me that there’s always room at the table and that a welcoming home can be a balm to the soul. As I was feeling low last year, I decided to take a page out of Mom’s book and create the space that would nurture both myself and those I love.

 

So, in 2025, we started Sunday-Funday. We invited a diverse group of friends and acquaintances, created a text thread, and committed to hosting a monthly get-together. What started as a smallish gathering has grown into an event. We may have 6 guests, or we may have 25, depending on the month. And through our efforts, we’ve gotten to know new people, solidified personal connections, and overall, have created a lasting community.

Here’s how we do it:

  1.  First, we pick a theme so that I can plan a menu and cocktails. We’ve done Fiesta, Friendsgiving, “Appy” Hour, Italian Summer, Chili Kickoff, and more. I start with the main entree, then figure out the sides, desserts, and 2-4 appetizers for cocktail hour. Once the menu is set, I send it out to the group text.
  2. Next, unless it’s a special occasion like Friendsgiving, we keep it casual. Good paper plates and disposable utensils. People serve themselves and find a spot. This isn’t a formal dinner party, it’s Sunday-Funday. I still use my serving pieces and such, but the casual atmosphere helps the diverse crowd relax.
  3. A clean, well-stocked bathroom is my firm essential. Nearly every guest will use the restroom at some point, and a clean bathroom helps them feel comfortable, which is the root of hospitality. I may have thrown three loads of laundry on my bed to be folded later, but the common spaces of the house will be in order. Not perfect, just in order. Except the bathroom. That will be perfectly clean and stocked.
  4. The menu is also a time to exercise the hosting muscles. While I don’t cater to extensive preferences/diets, I try to ensure that every guest has something they can eat. For example, I know that one guest keeps somewhat Kosher, so I know that I need a couple of things that so not have pork or shellfish. I actually failed at this this week because a guest’s spouse is vegan, which I did not know, and other than crudité, there was nothing she would eat. I was so embarrassed, but now I know and have filed that away in my kitchen journal.
  5. Inevitably, a guest is going to ask, “What can I bring?” I’ve learned to have a list of a few things ready just in case because people truly want to contribute. An app, a dessert, ice, extra crackers, etc. all are easy and don’t require much. In the American South, most guests for casual gathers will ask this question, and I’ve learned to have an answer, even if it is just “yourself.”
  6. I take pictures when I can, but our gatherings are not about social media content. It’s about connecting and community. The entire point is to spend time with people and make them feel welcome. I will usually walk around and snap a few pictures but limit myself to 5-10 minutes for our group text but otherwise, I focus on remaining present.
  7. Drinks. We do our best to keep a well-stocked drink station, so people have plenty of options. Additionally, we keep bags of ice in the cooler because nothing ruins a party faster than running out of ice.

While Sunday-Funday is a monthly affair, I still try to incorporate small-scale hosting throughout the month, even if it is just inviting the neighbor over for dinner. It’s nice to unplug and connect with people over a good meal. I believe that taking the time to treat others is an incredible gift.

Mostly, I think that if you want a village, you sometimes have to just build it yourself. Happy Hosting!

2026–The Year I am Cultivating Joy

Whew. 2025 was something. Don’t get me wrong, there were some good moments.

Bear graduated college a full year early and started grad school. We traveled to Scotland. I finally had plastic surgery to remove my c-section pooch and had my stomach muscles repaired after the damage from 10-pound babies. I also cooked and knit a ton, while working on my Master’s in Gastronomy program. I also hosted a dozen or so parties, which I will write about in my next post.

But it was also a year of struggle. My mental and physical health took a nosedive, and constant stress wore me down. It also didn’t help that I started 2026 with the worst cold I’ve had in years, hence the later-than-intended post. I knew something needed to change, and not in a New Year-New Me kind of way.

As such, when I sat down to think about what I want to do in the year ahead, I decided to strive to cultivate joy daily in my home. I want to romanticize small moments and let go of things and practices that no longer serve myself or my family. I also want to complete some languishing projects and approach each day with intention rather than reaction. Mostly, I want to have the mindset that being proactive in cultivating joy should be a priority, rather than happenstance.

So, how are we going to do this? Here are some fundamentals I laid out in my planner:

  • Stop waiting for special occasions. You deserve everyday joy. Light the candle, set the table, use the serving pieces, make the dinner you want on occasion rather than always trying to please others. Small things can take everyday moments from mundane to cozy comfort.
  • Continue hosting and cultivate community. I love hosting, which sometimes feels like a lost art. Hospitality is a gift to others that brings me joy and builds bridges. That is important in an era where people feel more and more disconnected.
  • Prioritize things that I know bring me joy and improve my mental health, even if it’s just a few minutes a day, like knitting, reading, using the good bath bomb, etc.
  • Cook from my cookbooks and test more recipes. I have a massive cookbook library, but come meal planning time, I have fallen into bad habits of just doing the same-old thing because I’m mentally wiped. I am now ensuring that I pick out a recipe or two from my books to try each week so that I am always learning and experimenting, thereby proving that my goblin hoard is justified. Food and cooking are my passion, so I am actively restructuring the way I meal plan so that the mental load doesn’t get maxed out all at once.
  • Personal care needs to be a priority, not an afterthought. I always feel better when I stick to wellness and skincare routines, and those have been the first to fall to the wayside in times of stress. Procrastination leads to apathy. And my kids don’t need to be reminding me to eat or take my meds, that’s for sure.
  • Reset my home one room at a time, even if this occurs in small pieces, especially my bedroom, which is a catchall for “I’ll deal with that later.” Some clutter (honestly, a lot) needs to go. The laundry room also needs attention. These unseen-to-guests spaces are haphazard and are decidedly NOT bringing me joy. Therefore, I vow to chip away at our home so that every room feels purposeful and intentional.
  • Finally finish my two biggest outstanding projects: revising and reprinting the family cookbook, and finishing Bean’s needlepoint stocking. I have resolved this every year for the past four years, and I am taking steps to make sure I succeed.

Though these seem like big goals, they share the same foundation–cultivate joy proactively and rediscover whimsy. I will be posting more this year, sharing recipes, meal plans, knitting/crafting content, honest reviews of stuff I bought with my own money, and more, so I hope you’ll come back.

Overall, despite the state of the outside world, I hope 2026 is a year where I focus on the joy within–including my home, my family, my community, and ultimately, myself.