I brought bread

What I saw: a raclette party

What I did beforehand: overslept, changed the clocks, ate eggs, posted blog, baked the bread dough I made the day before, gave the dogs the leftover egg, looked for my other pantsuit for Tuesday, read the New York Times, walked the dogs, changed clothes.

One fun thing about owning dogs: watching them eat things.

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) April 27, 2014

What I wore: Tiffany citrine drop earrings (a gift from the Bacon Provider), mustard yellow Fluevog LoF Kaya oxfords, pink striped socks, gray James jeans chinos, black Tanner belt, pale pink Brooks Brothers no-iron fitted cotton blouse, candy pink Boden cashmere crew neck sweater, antique wool-felted pink sari scarf, gray Ralph Lauren cashmere fingerless mittens, black North Face hooded thinsulate thigh-length parka, mascara, glasses.

Today's pant suit crisis: couldn't find the pants.

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) November 6, 2016

Who went with me: the Bacon Provider 

The Bacon Provider says he doesn't know any jokes

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) October 23, 2013

How I was invited: in person, at the barn

the worst thing about fun weekends is how you feel getting back to your usual life

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) August 12, 2014

Why I saw this show: it was fun last year

I need to grow up and tell the truth, which is "I waste my time online."

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) November 6, 2016

Where I sat: across from my own husband and next to someone else’s husband, who told me two or three times that he is a Republican. I did not tell him that I am not a Republican. I received two texts during the evening, one from my Pilates teacher adjusting the next day's schedule and the other from one of my kids. I replied to both. I also texted my husband at one point. 

I AM SITTING NEXT TO A REPUBLICAN
HE KEEPS TOUCHING ME pic.twitter.com/JZmP1WYaIz

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) November 7, 2016

Things that were sad: this conversation. 

Someone Else’s Husband: What did he do after graduation?
Me: You know, he got a horse job, but he missed his friends, so he moved to Brooklyn, and got a job tending bar…
Someone Else’s Husband: You’re telling me that with your husband’s connections he couldn’t get your son a better job?
Me: He’s not really the kind of person to do something like that.
Someone Else’s Husband: …

Oh good
Let's argue about marijuana now

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) November 7, 2016

Things that were funny: if there was a dissenting opinion about marijuana legalization at my end of the table, it was not uttered aloud. People around me were unified in the belief that it leads to a lot of car accidents. This was followed with a chorus of condemnation of mobile phones for also causing car accidents. I guess car accidents are of great concern here in Westchester County. I wondered semi-seriously if my texting at the table had been noticed and, if detected, seen as rude. I wanted to look up the statistics about the frequency of car accidents in Westchester, but I didn't until the next morning.

Or maybe we have to have a mixer, where all the Republicans have to dance with the Democrats, even though they're all lined up on the wall

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) January 28, 2014

Things that were not funny: a person (who appeared to be white) wanted to tell me how “the blacks” in the U.K. are different from “our blacks” in the U.S. I was so astonished and anxious about where this statement might lead, I stopped listening, and their voice became like the voice of an adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon: WAH-WAAH, WAH WAAH WAAH WAAAH. We were soon coming dangerously close to discussing the presidential race. I attempted a deflection by pointing out that my husband, who I could gesture to but probably couldn’t hear me, came to the U.S. as a refugee when he was a child. Someone (who could not have known then told me that the refugees of the past were “christian,” and therefore, “desirable.” I resumed more serious eating and drinking.

"This Pinot is made in the French style, not the American style." pic.twitter.com/EqrnvtQPLD

— Hamsteria d'Relish (@hamsterRelish) November 7, 2016

What it is: my friend the host has a number of raclette parties each autumn, and owns a pair of neat red Swissmar raclette party grills. She serves very good wine and bresaola (thinly sliced, spiced and salted air-dried beef), two kinds of cheese, the traditional boiled potatoes, cornichons, and cherry tomatoes. I brought a seeded sourdough bread, baked that morning, consisting of white, whole wheat, and spelt flours, and sesame, poppy, caraway, sunflower, pumpkin, and flax seeds. Each person has their own spatula, and gets to improvise their own cooking technique (just cheese, cheese on bread, meat and cheese on bread, cheese on potato, cheese on tomato, etc.). The conversation was lively and fun and really only unpleasant when people stopped talking about themselves.

@hamsterRelish 😂 😂 😂
You need to live tweet more dinner parties

— DairyMan (@dairymanNZ) November 7, 2016

Who should see it: we are going to have to have a lot more parties where we talk and listen to each other.  My current method of coping by not listening or replying feels like an unproductive emergency measure.

@hamsterRelish Yeah. You seem to get invited to a lot of good parties, though.

— Ms. (((Rosenberg))) (@Miz_Rosenberg) June 2, 2014

A Letter to the College I went to

Not a golf course

Dear Middlebury College Office of Alumni Relations:

I am sure golf is a fine game. People seem very frustrated by it, but they do keep playing so there must be something to it.

You know, golf has a white, elitist reputation, but maybe that’s all in my mind, and maybe I’m overreacting. I know for a fact that there are at least two multi-racial men who play golf, because I’ve seen Tiger Woods and Barack Obama doing it on TV.

And so much land is set aside for golf that might otherwise go to egalitarian purposes like playgrounds or forests, so I’m thinking golf must be good for society in some way, even though I haven’t grasped it yet. Probably keeps a lot of club manufacturers making good old-fashioned American profits. And the people who make those wee carts, I bet they make them in Reedsburg, Wisconsin and also maybe Georgia and China, and that some of them also make big trucks and drills and hopefully not machine guns.

I’ve been an ambivalent alum, I admit. I did appreciate my education, And I still do, and I really had a very positive experience there as an undergrad, other than my size 6 light blue high wasted Esprit blue jeans that someone jacked from the laundry room. Still pissed about that. But you know what, I ended up majoring in something much different from what I set out to do which has its very good points and a few bad. I did go on to a couple of advanced degrees, so y’all can take credit for putting me on track for that, anyway.

Middlebury has changed quite a bit since my husband and I went there in the 80s, and we aren’t sure both of us could actually get in today. Our three kids reacted to the prospect of applying to Middlebury with a hearty, “Hell, no.”  Something about your application or acceptance rates threw them off, repulsed them, even. When we went there, you were a small, liberal arts college in Vermont that no one had heard of. There were some seriously undesirable dorms, and we lived in all of them. I promise all the graffiti I wrote was small and in pencil and you’ve probably already torn down those buildings anyway. We had plenty of spoiled rich kid classmates, who drove around campus in their Saabs, a handful of campus parking tickets fluttering from their side mirror, and wore TopSiders with no socks in winter because they were hardened from skiing in the Ice Bowl. Our friends were artsy and well-rounded and had a decent band and I’m sure the current crop is also artsy and well-rounded and actually pretty academically buxom if you know what I mean by that. Perfect SAT scores and also perfect teeth, that kind of thing.

I admit I probably should do a better job of responding to the pleas for donations to the annual fund, but did I mention those three kids of mine? They picked other, equally expensive private colleges, so you might have to wait a few more years, know what I’m saying? #strapped

But getting back to the golf thing, I have had a love/hate relationship with golfish clothes over the years. The preppy thing happened when I was in high school (yes, I’m that old. How’d you think I got so crotchedy?) so, like, I have a certain fondness for a bright pink polo shirt and pants with tiny cocker spaniels embroidered all over them. And monograms on things. My label! Promoting me! That’s like super golfy, right? But at some point the preppy thing started seeming elitist and very East Coast and we moved out west and wore our jeans even after the knees blew out and found over the years that the flannel shirts outnumbered the oxford shirts. So, wait, what was I talking about?

Oh, right, golf. So I think golf is played by both men and women, which is good. I’ve seen female mannequins at the Nike store and they’re in golf clothes, too.  I probably know some women who golf, but they might not have time for it because like you know they’ve got to work 29% harder than men to make the same salary or something like that.

As for the artificial pesticides and fertilizers used to keep all that grass nice and short and green on the golf course, well, the bees and frogs might have something to complain about, if there were any left. Too bad about that.

So, I’m gonna pass on the invite to the annual Alumni GolfTournament.  It’s important to keep up the Great Traditions. When I went to Midd, there was something called “Paul Newman Day” where people drank a whole case of beer by themselves, 24 beers in 24 hours. I never had enough spending money back then to participate, but I think of it every time I see Paul Newman's face on salad dressing in the supermarket.

Your Friend,

Hamster Relish, Class of 1985