The Floor

I have spent the last 2 hours spread out on my living room floor with my to do list, my calendar and a dozen loose ends that need tying up. One of the few advantages to a husband who sometimes works late into the night is the ability to sit with a cup of tea in a quiet house and get caught up.

So, why I am on the floor, when there is seating for 11 in this room? I like it here. I have my first evening fire of the Fall, the carpet is soft and the floor just seems to always be a place where I can spread out and just be.

I had a relatively new friend over this afternoon. When she arrived, I escorted her into the living room (the most formal spot in my home). As we started to get settled in, I started the fire and suddenly we were both looking longingly at the rug.
"Is it weird for us to sit on the floor, " I asked her.
"No, I would love that," she replied with a grin.
It was then that I knew we were real friends--shoes off, legs crossed, on the floor.

Genteel women everywhere are cringing.

I appreciate decorum. Manners are important to me. But the older I get the more I realize that true hospitality has far more to do with creating a space where a guest feels relaxed, welcomed and comfortable than sitting upright on stuffy furniture so nervous we might break the rules that we can't get enjoy authentic conversation.

It probably goes without saying that my guest today was young and able-bodied. I will certainly not expect my 84 year old Grandmama to give up her seat at Thanksgiving--even if she did recently send me a facebook friend request!