An invitation for every kind of gathering.

Come see the thesis model.

Bring a bowl if you have a favorite.

Phones stay by the door. There is a chicken.

Matteo finished the oven in May. It took nine of the ten years. Come eat whatever comes out of it.

Lemonade on the porch where it all began. Bring a chair; the two rockers are spoken for.

Bring a picnic blanket. We'll handle the string and the sandwiches.

Pancakes at ten, one candle, and applause whenever she claps.

She has promised to finally tell the stories. Tea and cake to follow.

Lights off at 8:15. When he walks in, we yell.

Cannonballs judged at noon. Cake on the deck at one.

Six courses at one long table, then a chocolate cake with too many candles.

She turns thirty-two after dark. Expect excellent coffee.

Champagne at eight, then a five-piece band until late.

Grandma sewed for both.

Dinner under the skylight. Bring a wish to hang on the mobile.

Cocoa, cake and one quiet hour before the snow and the sleepless nights.

Cardamom coffee and cake before night shifts.

Open house all afternoon. Say goodbye before he heads west.

Off to Geneva in June.

Karim has had the lamb in since dawn. The long table is set outside; bring the kids and an appetite.

Bring four dozen of one recipe and the story behind it. Grandmother’s pig cutter comes out at two.

The final night of Hanukkah and the last night of the year, at one long table.

Just the turkey, the sides and a seat saved for you.